


Fire and the Flood

by Devany



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Hallmark-style drama because it's about a wedding, I just love the Red/Blue symbolism, M/M, Slow Burn, the title doesn't actually have much to do with the story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-01-01 03:22:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 38,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18327605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devany/pseuds/Devany
Summary: In which Blue comes home for his sister’s wedding and ends up facing some hard truths. Blue/Red.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story that has been writing itself for the better part of 20 years, when 11-year-old me saw the prompt “Daisy is getting married” on a fanfic shrine hosted by Angelfire (or was that Geocities?). As a kid I didn’t understand the nuances of marriage or family dynamics at all, but the idea always stuck with me in some way. Now that I’m older and have been to my share of weddings (lol), I think I’m finally ready to tackle the subject with a little more precision. Wish me luck! (Note: Some of the character details were lifted from various sources, including several games and manga chapters, so things might not be 100% accurate to any one canon. I also had to infer some names based off of loose translations, sooo. Hope that’s not too confusing!)

_Daisy Oak is getting married._

Truth be told, Blue is only mildly surprised when he checks the laboratory mailbox one spring afternoon and finds an envelope addressed to him, hand-written in neat, feminine penmanship that he immediately recognizes as his sister’s.

He doesn’t open the invitation right away, tucking it under his arm instead and whistling for Eevee to follow him as he sets off down the short flight of steps giving way to the busy sidewalk of South Boulevard.

It isn’t until he and his furry companion are seated at one of the nearby cafés for lunch – near the window, of course, because even though Blue would rather enjoy his galette in relative peace, Eevee prefers to people-watch over her saucer of pomeg berry juice – that Blue finally eases the envelope open and confirms for himself what he’s already guessed.

_Professor Samuel Oak_

_and Mr. and Mrs. William Palmer_

_request the honor of your presence_

_at the wedding of their children,_

_Daisy Oak and Bill Palmer._

_Saturday, June 21 st_

_at three o’clock in the afternoon._

_Route 21 Northern Shoreline,_

_Pallet Town._

_Dinner and dancing to follow!_

Almost in spite of himself, Blue feels his lips twitch into a fond smile. So, Daisy’s  _finally_ getting hitched. He takes a sip of his cappuccino, running his free thumb along the gold trim lining the edges of the invitation, and wonders if he should’ve seen this coming.

In retrospect, things between his sister and Bill _had_ appeared to be moving pretty quickly since she’d gushed to him about their first kiss a year and a half ago. (Blue still cringes when he thinks of how open Daisy is with him sometimes – there are some things that you’d rather just _not_ discuss with your sibling, whether you’re 10 or 21.)

Most of the messages she’d sent since Blue had moved to Lumiose to continue his studies had been about Bill: how nervous she’d been to apply as a research assistant at his infamous Sea Cottage in Cerulean, what a kind and considerate boss he’d ended up being (if not a little absent-minded before his morning coffee), how she’d gathered up the courage to ask him to attend the Pallet New Year’s celebration with her (“Does that make it a date, Blue?! Does it?!”). Daisy was certainly at that age where marriage was the next logical step in any committed relationship, so really, Blue isn’t so much surprised as he is suddenly aware of how time has marched on without him.

To be fair, it had been Blue’s decision to leave home shortly after returning from the Pokémon World Tournament exhibition in Unova (he tries very, _very_ hard not to think about the events that transpired that summer). At the time he'd had no idea what to do with his life long-term, but he'd at least had the foresight to know that heading the Viridian City Gym until he was Gramps’s age probably wasn’t it.

Thankfully he’d always been good at making connections (in no small part due to the celebrity status that came with being tied for the title of Youngest Kanto Champion in history), so after procuring a few well-placed recommendation letters from both the lead trainer of the Elite Four and his (annoyingly renowned) grandfather, Professor Oak, Blue had acquired a guaranteed in to the university of his choice.

The University of Lumiose had, of course, appealed to him on several fronts. First, the school boasted an impressive catalog of fields of study, ranging from Evolutionary Theory (which Blue had taken an immediate interest in) to the Psychology of Pokémon. Secondly, he’d heard from a mutual acquaintance that interning for Professor Sycamore, the region’s leading authority on the newly-discovered Mega Evolution phenomenon, was a very real possibility (his grandfather would certainly see the merit in that, not that he’d been looking for Gramps’s approval in any way, shape, or form). And, thirdly and most importantly, it was located in Kalos, which was at least one entire plane ride away from sleepy Pallet Town, where everything was familiar and predictable and boring (and where Blue secretly feared he’d be stuck for the rest of his life if he didn’t do _something_ about it fast enough).

The move had been good for him, of that much he was certain. Sure, the first few weeks had been embarrassingly tinged with a homesickness that Blue couldn’t really explain, but over time the sheer _newness_ of everything had eclipsed the uncertainty that Blue still felt from time to time. Here, he could be anything he wanted to be – studious, charming, reticent, effervescent. Here, people knew only rumors of the boy Champion of Kanto, granting him the freedom to fill in those blanks however he saw fit. Here he didn’t have to hide in the shadow of two of the greatest (and most infuriating) people he’d ever known – Gramps, whose pioneering work on the Pokédex had changed the way Pokémon were studied worldwide, and the _real_ boy Champion of Kanto, who Blue pointedly avoided thinking about at every turn because nothing good _ever_ came of remembering _him_.

Through sheer effort (and not entirely through his association to Professor Oak, for once), Blue had made a name for himself here in Kalos, studying under the tutelage of Sycamore and his brightest assistants, Dexio and Sina. Together they’d theorized on the origins of Mega Evolution, done extensive research on how different Pokémon reacted to different evolutionary stones, and even submitted a dissertation on why the Fairy typing should be accepted into the League’s official battling standard.

All of this progress had come at the expense of being present for his family – Blue had always reasoned that this was a necessary if not welcome sacrifice to make, and on most days he’d believe it whole-heartedly – but sitting here now, alone save for the presence of his closest Pokémon companion, holding his sister’s wedding invitation and realizing that Daisy hadn’t brought any of this up when he’d last visited home over winter break…

Blue shakes his head, feeling the unwelcome tinge of guilt starting to settle in the pit of his stomach, and, before he’s had time to fully think things through, finds himself rummaging through his bag for his PokéNav device. He stares at it for a moment, wipes at the screen with his thumb and thinks about Daisy reprimanding him for refusing to upgrade to Kalos’s Holo Caster (“Really, Blue? You’re living in the lap of luxury yet your phone is just _barely_ above Pokégear status?”).

What he hadn’t told her was that a simpler device meant less interference from the outside world – fewer calls from unknown numbers goading him into addressing rumors that may or may not have been true, fewer opportunities to stumble upon news articles and social media posts that were guaranteed to send him into a spiral of self-doubt and anxiety, fewer interruptions now that his life was finally heading in a direction he could one day be happy with.

Beside him, Eevee watches Blue with curious brown eyes, extending a soft, downy paw towards his arm and batting lightly at his wrist. Blue turns to smile faintly at her – how does she _always_ manage to know when he’s thinking uncomfortable thoughts? – and gestures to the invitation still laying open on the table in front of him.

“Looks like love is in the air, Eeves,” he tells her wryly. “Daisy’s getting married soon.”

Blue waits for her reaction – smiles to himself when Eevee blinks and tilts her head in question – then starts to dial the number he’s committed to memory since his Pokémon journey began over a decade ago. “We’d better congratulate her before she gets on our case about it.”

There’s a ring over the line, two, three, and then Blue can practically hear the moment Daisy slams the ‘answer call’ button and squeals breathlessly into her phone, “Blue, is that you?!”

“How’s it hangin’?” he responds coolly, but it’s tinged with the fondness he always tries so hard to quash down; it simply wouldn’t suit his image to get all sappy over how much he misses his big sister sometimes, especially not when she’s always so eager to call him out on it.

“Did you get it?” comes the excited reply, and Blue can almost picture her in his mind’s eye, bits of flour sticking to her hair from the cookies she’s probably baking right now for Bill and Gramps. (“And the neighbors,” his mind supplies unhelpfully, blessedly stopping before he can think further on it).

“I did,” he informs her with a faint shake of his head, running his fingers over the rim of his forgotten cappuccino cup. “Congrats, Daisy. Can’t say I’m surprised with how much you’re always blabbing about him.”

“Oh, hush,” Daisy admonishes him, but there’s a smile in her voice as she continues, “He actually proposed a little while back, during the fireworks show at the New Year’s festival. I wanted to tell you sooner, but I also kind of wanted to surprise you…”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t see it coming, then,” Blue says; then, because it’s probably customary to ask, “So what’re your plans?”

“Oh my goodness, Blue,” she breathes over the line, sounding equal parts frazzled and absolutely giddy. “There’s _so much_ to consider! I mean, it’s not going to be a _huge_ wedding by any means, but there’s the catering and the flowers and flying Bill’s family in – most of them are in Johto, but his dad’s been spending time in Hoenn lately… Oh! And I haven’t even _started_ looking for a dress yet! Delia says we should take a trip down to Celadon City one of these days, but she’s been so busy waiting for Red to come back home first, and…”

Blue doesn’t even realize that he’s holding his breath until Daisy’s chattering trails off suddenly. They’re both silent for several beats, and then Daisy’s voice floats back over the line, softer than before and tinged in apology, “Sorry, Blue, I didn’t mean to bring anything up…”

“It’s cool,” Blue shrugs, trying to sound nonchalant but feeling like he’s failing miserably. “Ancient history. How is the resident legend, anyway? Holing himself up on any new mountains lately?”

Daisy doesn’t say anything, and Blue wonders if maybe it has something to do with the bitter edge that seems to have crept into his voice all of a sudden. When she does respond, it sounds a little too cautious. “He’s… fine, I think. Delia says he’s been out adventuring more lately, which is good for him but not so good for her. I think she’s worried that the next time he leaves, he won’t come back.”

Blue lets out a snort in spite of himself, startling Eevee, who side-eyes him suspiciously. He swats gently at her tail and clears his throat, “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Blue,” Daisy says softly, and there’s a sympathy in her voice that makes Blue feel sick all of a sudden. “We don’t have to talk about him if you don’t want to…”

“It’s fine,” he lies, a little too quickly and a little too unconvincingly. “I already told you, I’m over it. He can do whatever he wants. It’s got nothing to do with me.”

Despite wanting to drop the subject entirely, Blue finds himself asking before Daisy has the opportunity to rescue the conversation, “So he’s… I mean… is he coming to the wedding?”

Daisy seems to be weighing her options, and Blue can imagine her inner turmoil, having to choose between her brother and the woman who was virtually a surrogate mother to them both. “Delia was the first person I told, Blue, even before Grandpa, and… Red is practically family, after all.”

“Yeah,” Blue laughs, more of a clipped bark than anything else. “I figured.”

He takes a moment, steadies his nerves and tries to remind himself that this is about his sister, _not_ about whatever feelings of resentment and abandonment and _whatever else_ he might still be harboring over Pallet’s golden child. “It’s okay, Daisy. Really. I’m a big boy. I can behave myself for one whole day.”

“Actually,” Daisy starts slowly, and Blue can tell she’s trying her best not to scare him off. “I was hoping – well, _we_ were all hoping, really – that you could fly in a little earlier than that. Say, maybe, a week before the wedding?”

Blue rolls his eyes even though Daisy can’t see him, stifling the groan that he can feel rather than hear coming. Of course things were going to be more complicated than that. _Of course._

“It’s just that we never see you as often as we used to, and everyone really misses you, Blue. It’s not the same only having you home on holidays and the occasional break.”

“You know how busy I am, sis,” Blue tries to explain, almost apologetic in spite of himself. “There’s school and lab work and we’re _this_ close to formulating a viable hypothesis on the properties of Mega Evolution…”

“Oh, Blue,” Daisy giggles over the line. “You sound _just_ like…”

“Don’t,” Blue interrupts her, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Don’t say ‘Gramps’.”

“I was _going_ to say ‘Grandpa’,” Daisy laughs, and Blue can’t help it; he laughs too, because there really _is_ no escaping the old man, try as he might.

“A whole week, though?” Blue finally asks, looking for the escape he knows he won’t find.

“It’ll only be a few days,” Daisy reasons with him soothingly. “You can help us set up the venue and everything! Please, Blue?”

“Ugh,” is all Blue says, and Daisy seems satisfied because he can hear the smile in her voice when she chirps, “Thank you! I couldn’t have asked for a better brother.”

“You’re so lucky,” Blue tells her dryly.

“Yes, I am,” Daisy agrees cheerfully. “Let me know as soon as you’ve booked a flight, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Blue grumbles dismissively, and Daisy leaves him with a quick, heartfelt, “Love you!” before she cuts off her end of the line.

Blue lets the PokéNav drop into his bag with a sigh, turning his attention back to Eevee, who is now perched on the table directly in front of him, innocently pawing at the edge of his plate.

“Go ahead, girl,” he relents, pushing the half-eaten galette closer to her, much to Eevee’s absolute delight. “I think I’ve lost my appetite.”

He watches as Eevee digs in happily, bits of berry and flaky crust sticking to the fur of her cheeks, and then lets out a glowering breath as the realization hits him all at once: “Crap. _Leaf_.”


	2. Chapter 2

_“Arcanine, return!”_

_The lights above the stadium are blaring, white-hot, illuminating the silhouette of his listless Pokémon as it disappears into a stream of red particles, arcing smoothly through the air before returning to its pokéball with a soft ‘click’._

_Blue blinks the sweat from his eyes, reattaching Arcanine’s ball to the clip at his belt and searching wildly for his only remaining battler. His fingers skim across each of the pokéballs there, cool to the touch – only one still pulses with the warmth and energy of a Pokémon willing to fight._

_Without a second thought Blue pulls the ball from his belt and throws it with all of his might, watching breathlessly as the spherical device bursts open in a momentary flash of blinding light._

_A long, serpentine body appears instantly before his eyes, bright blue with scattered yellow spots running along the length of its scales. The roar that accompanies its arrival is deafening, echoing so fiercely against the stadium walls that the stands grow quiet, onlookers holding their breath in rapt silence._

_Blue feels himself smile._

Gyarados.

_Across the way, Red is watching him with a curious expression, the brim of his hat pulled down so low that it almost obscures his eyes from view. He recalls the Pokémon who had bested Blue’s Arcanine just moments earlier – Blastoise – and reaches, seemingly at random, for another pokéball. When he throws it wordlessly, beckoning forth the creature that rests within, Blue feels his smile widen._

Charizard.

_He has the type advantage._

_Blue opens his mouth – “Hydro Pump!” is on the tip of his tongue – but Gyarados moves before he can get the command out, surging forward with a ferocity that Blue hasn’t witnessed in years. Charizard meets the sea serpent halfway, fangs glinting in the light, and when they crash into one another the stadium walls tremble._

_When the shaking stops, Blue is somewhere else._

_At first he doesn’t recognize where he is – he feels disoriented, dizzy, sick – but it only takes a moment for the world to right itself again._

_There’s the desk by the door, six small pokéballs lined up neatly on its wooden surface. There’s the portrait hung up on the wall, a herd of Rapidash racing across a sunlit field. There’s the minibar that Blue knows Red will never use, because Red carries everything he needs right there with him, in his old, tattered backpack._

_There’s Red himself._

_He’s standing at the edge of the hotel room bed, with its crisp white sheets and downy pillows, and for the first time since they’d arrived here in Unova, he’s not looking at Blue._

_Understandably, Blue is furious._

_He sees his reflection in Red’s mirror, the raw hurt on his own face._

_He’d lost,_ again _, in spite of having the advantage and_ knowing _that Red wasn’t even battling at the top of his game. It had only been an exhibition match, meant to rile the crowd up and prepare everyone for the start of the Pokémon World Tournament’s summer competition, but still…_

_Blue wants to know why he keeps losing. Even though it shouldn’t matter anymore, and even though they should’ve already settled their differences on the summit of Mt. Silver years ago, Blue_ still _wants to know._

_More than that, he wants to know why Red always looks so_ sad _every time he wins._

_“Why did you come back, Red?”_

_The words escape him more viciously than he’d intended, an accusation framed as a question. When Red doesn’t respond, doesn’t even lift his hands to try, Blue is even angrier._

_“Did you want to beat me again that badly? Did you want to remind everyone how much better you’ve always been?”_

_Why won’t Red_ look _at him?_

_“I asked you to come home,” Blue says, before he can stop himself. He wonders what it is that’s actually bothering him – the fact that Red came down for the Pokémon World Tournament, or the fact that Red_ didn’t _come down off of his stupid mountain when Blue had asked him to, all those years ago._

_Red finally looks up from beneath the brim of his hat, and when he does, his eyes are so sad and earnest that Blue can only do one thing._

_He surges forward, like a wave, like a flood –_

_and he kisses him._

* * *

Blue awakens with a start. His heart is thundering hard against his ribs, breath stuttering in his chest. Somewhere to his left Eevee is mewling at him sleepily in concern, and it’s with a detached sense of relief that Blue finally realizes he’s been dreaming.

He falls back heavily onto his pillow, one hand coming up to reassuringly rub the fur between Eevee’s ears, and glances warily at the digital clock sitting on his bedside table.

_4:18._

Blue lets his breath out in a frustrated huff and curses his horrible luck. He’s supposed to be up for the day in 2 hours; there’s no good reason for him to be wide-awake right now, staring at the shadows on the ceiling and still reeling a little from the images his mind had (treacherously) decided to conjure while he’d slept.

The worst part, Blue knows, is that none of it had actually been a dream.

Sometimes, when his defenses are lower – when he’s sleep-deprived or stressed or just plain lonely, like he is now – Blue will allow himself to think about what happened on the day of his exhibition match against Red.

They’d arrived in Unova on decent enough terms – took the same flight out of Vermilion City, even, because Lance had insisted that Kanto’s representatives should stick together, for whatever reason.

Had things actually been okay between them? A lot had certainly gone unspoken – for starters, Red never did seem even remotely sorry for having hidden himself away from civilization for literal years. Then again, Blue had never apologized for hitting him in the face when he’d found him on Mt. Silver on Red’s 16th birthday, either.

The trouble, Blue thinks, is that there had always been so much history there – _too_ much of it, really – and that Red had always been exceptionally good at getting under his skin, especially where their rivalry was concerned.

At the time Blue had handled losing to Red – yet again _–_ with some dignity, at least in front of the cameras.

Blue remembers saying something trite but easy to digest, about Red embodying the strength of all Kanto trainers and never disappointing Blue as a rival – that part had been true. The part about looking forward to a rematch someday soon – that hadn’t been _quite_ as true, but the audience had eaten it up anyway.

It was only afterwards, when the hubbub had died down and he’d followed Red back to his room – like a normal person who had unfinished business with an old friend, he’d convinced himself – that Blue’s emotions had gotten the better of him.

He hadn’t _meant_ for it to happen – the intention had been to confront Red, maybe get some answers out of him or at least blow some steam off arguing about their complicated circumstances for the millionth time.

But they weren’t kids anymore, and Blue had grossly underestimated what years of separation and his own hair-trigger temper would do to his state of mind.

Kissing Red hadn’t even been the worst of it, really.

The worst of it had been that Red had actually kissed him back, for reasons that _still_ make Blue’s brain short-circuit when he thinks about it, because it doesn’t make any _sense_.

Red should’ve shoved him off and kicked him out the door, confirming Blue’s suspicions that he was, indeed, going crazy. At the very least he should’ve given Blue the space to examine his feelings more objectively, because the mess that ensued – Red pulling Blue’s shirt off over his head, Blue fumbling with Red’s belt buckle, both of them stumbling around the room like teenagers just an hour after having battled in front of literally the entire world – had done nothing but plague Blue’s thoughts until he’d decided that running away to Kalos was his only option.

Blue sighs, scrubbing a hand roughly across his eyes.

He’d managed _not_ to obsess over what had happened with Red for _so_ long now, yet one conversation with his sister had completely undone three years’ worth of (relative) progress.

Blue doesn’t want to think about what going home means, doesn’t want to have to see Red’s stupid face again after what happened the last time they’d been in the same room together, and he certainly _doesn’t_ want to be dreaming about the way Red still haunts him, every night for the next two months.

With another annoyed huff of air Blue throws the sheets off, startling Eevee in the process, and silently swears to not sleep again until June.

_(Blue conveniently forgets that he's always been bad at keeping his promises.)_

* * *

It takes her 36 hours to call but, as predicted, Blue’s PokéNav begins to chime incessantly one night while he’s busy microwaving popcorn in the small eat-in kitchen of his apartment.

“Did you get it?” Leaf chirps excitedly when Blue finally summons the willpower to answer her call. She reminds him so much of his sister sometimes, with her genuine and unabashed enthusiasm. “You got it, right?”

“Hello to you, too, Leaf,” Blue teases, and he can practically feel Leaf rolling her eyes at him on her end of the line.

“Uh-huh, so, are you coming?”

“It’s my sister’s wedding,” Blue deadpans, balancing the device on his shoulder as he strides into the living room, popcorn bag in hand. Time to spend another thrilling evening marathoning Pokémon documentaries while Eevee steals the good cushion and most of his food. “I can’t _not_ go.”

“Sweet!” Leaf cheers triumphantly in his ear. Knowing his highly excitable childhood friend, there’s probably a fist-pump in there somewhere, too. “Pallet Town reunion!”

“How old are you, Leaf?” Blue sighs in response, dropping down right onto the center of the couch and causing Eevee to jump in surprise. She hisses at him in annoyance, then circles her favorite cushion once before plopping back down to continue her nap.

“I just turned 21, you jerk,” Leaf proclaims, sounding anything but. “How old are _you_ now, 50?”

“Feels like it sometimes,” Blue admits with a laugh, on the verge of self-deprecating. The years since he’d become Kanto Champion – then swiftly lost the title of Kanto Champion – then took over as Gym Leader of Viridian City – then decided he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life _being_ the Gym Leader of Viridian City – then ran off to Kalos to try and get a fresh start… they’d weighed more heavily on him than even he cared to admit sometimes.

In a way, he could almost see the appeal of hiding away on a mountain forever. Almost.

“So you mean to tell me you’re _not_ totally living it up in Lumiose City?” Leaf asks incredulously, and Blue can’t fault her for being surprised.

Of the three of them (how long had it been since they’d _actually_ been a trio?) Blue had always been the one seeking out the spotlight, basking in the glow of attention whenever and however he could get it. It had been Blue’s belief for years that he was destined for greatness, and that everyone else was destined to give him the approval he so desperately sought.

So much for that.

“Lumiose _is_ pretty great,” Blue says coolly. “You know how it is out here. There’re cafés on every corner, tons of things to see and do… I’m pretty sure I have the best view of Prism Tower right here at the lab.”

He pauses, noting that Leaf seems to be listening to him intently, and adds with an edge of smugness, “I’m kind of a local celebrity around here, too. The higher-ups are really taking an interest in my field research. We’ll have officially inducted Fairy typing into the League by next season.”

“That’s awesome,” Leaf replies, sounding genuinely happy for him, and Blue feels a flicker of the warmth she’d always inspired in him when they were kids. The little sister he’d never had but had secretly always wanted.

“It’s kinda noisy, though,” he shrugs, clearing his throat, and the words escape him before he can take them back, “Red would totally hate it.”

“He probably would,” Leaf hums thoughtfully, and Blue silently curses himself because he’s really done it now. “Have you… heard from him lately, by any chance?”

“No,” Blue snaps irritably, then wonders if he’s startled Leaf with his outburst. He drags a hand over his face, takes a calming breath, and asks a little more neutrally, “Have you?”

“Now that you mention it, I _have_ ,” she singsongs, sounding for all intents and purposes like an Ekans who’s finally caught the Rattata they’d been stalking for ages. “We’ve both been on the road a lot this year. Even got around to traveling together for a while. You know, camping out under the stars and stuff.”

“How romantic,” Blue snarks, swallowing down something that tastes vaguely like jealousy. Leaf collapses into a fit of giggles on the other end of the line.

“Ew,” she finally says. Blue vividly imagines her wrinkling her nose at the prospect. “Red is… Red. He’s always been more _your_ type, anyway.”

“Shut up,” Blue replies tiredly, because _of course_ Leaf knows.

Damn her female intuition.

“He’s fine, in case you were wondering,” Leaf continues nonchalantly. “His Pokémon are in great shape. Training nonstop from the looks of it. I challenged him to a battle and he totally wiped me.”

“Good ol’ Red,” Blue replies for lack of anything else to say. Has no one managed to avoid the sting of losing to Kanto’s enigmatic boy Champion?

“He’s texting a lot more these days, too,” Leaf tries to supply helpfully, obviously implying _something_. “It’s easier than trying to understand his signing over holo-chat.”

Blue stifles a smile at Leaf’s long-suffering sigh. Even as kids, she’d never quite gotten the hang of learning Red’s brand of sign language, at least not the way Blue had. He remembers practicing in front of the mirror for hours, wanting to impress Red with how much he’d managed to teach himself overnight.

“I’m not texting him, Leaf,” Blue tells her at last, hoping the finality is evident in his tone. “If he wants to talk, _he_ can reach out to _me_.”

“I know you guys left the tournament on weird terms,” Leaf says gently, and Blue closes his eyes involuntarily, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

He has virtually no capacity to escape the visceral emotion that flares up anytime anyone mentions Unova or the Pokémon World Tournament.

“It’s sweet of you to worry,” Blue finally says, the words dripping with sarcasm. “But we’re perfectly capable of handling our own business.”

“Are you, though?” Leaf hums, testing just how far Blue will let her go with this. “Because according to Red, the only thing _you’re_ ‘capable of’ is running away.”

“What?” Blue feels himself stiffen, panic flooding his system in spite of his attempts to remain cool and composed.

“After…” Leaf hesitates, clearly not wanting to overstep her boundaries and betray whatever it is that Red had shared with her. “After what happened in Unova.”

“That’s rich, coming from him,” Blue snaps defensively; then, narrowing his eyes suspiciously, “What did he tell you, exactly?”

“Nothing,” Leaf lies quickly. “Just… that you never gave him a chance to explain. He said that you left without saying goodbye.”

“I’m not having this conversation with you,” Blue tells her firmly before Leaf can drag him through his feelings again. “What’s done is done. You can’t change the past.”

“You’ll have to see him again at the wedding,” Leaf points out sagely. “Daisy will want you both there.”

Blue sighs for the umpteenth time, wondering why every single woman who means anything to him keeps dredging up matters he’d rather not think about for the rest of his natural life. “Guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

There’s silence on the other end, probably Leaf wondering what to say now that Blue is no longer amenable to discussing Red. Finally, she relents. “Fine. I’m picking you up at the airport, though. Then you’ll _have_ to talk to me.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less from you, Leaf,” Blue tells her with some amusement. Leaf seems satisfied with this, because a moment later she’s back to her bubbly old self.

“It’s a date, then! See you soon, jerkwad.”

Blue smiles a little, reaching up to ease the phone off of his shoulder with one hand while his other moves to trace soothing circles along the fur of Eevee’s back.

“Smell ya later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two people who are obviously in love with each other but have zero emotional capacity to properly express it - that's kind of my jam, haha. Next chapter: Blue finally makes the trip home (and probably angsts some more about Red, idk). See you all soon!


	3. Chapter 3

June comes entirely too quickly for Blue’s taste.

One minute he’s throwing himself headfirst into both his studies and his work, spending all of his free time holed up at the lab, knee-deep in research and practicum. The next, he’s hovering awkwardly at the door of the Lumi cab Sycamore had insisted on paying for, watching Dexio and Sina scramble around with his luggage (somehow he resists the urge to just shove it all into the popped trunk himself).

Eevee is perched on his shoulder, her plump, fluffy tail coiled around Blue’s neck like a tiny brown scarf, surveying the chaos unfolding before them with some degree of curiosity. Blue just shakes his head, rubbing her under the chin with his knuckles before wondering out loud, “You two sure you’ve got this?”

“We’re fine!” Sina insists, violet curls bouncing as she unceremoniously shoves an elbow into one of Blue’s suitcases, jamming it into a space it clearly isn’t meant to occupy. “These trunks are awfully small, aren’t they, Dexio?”

“You’re not wrong,” the blond at her side huffs, but he’s smiling as he straightens up, working out a kink in his back with a quick stretch. “It looks like we’re finally all done here, though!”

_There were only three suitcases_ , Blue wants to argue, but he holds his tongue wisely and nods for Eevee to board the vehicle ahead of him. She tosses a look at the other humans over her shoulder, offering a friendly mewl of farewell before hopping deftly into the cab and making herself comfortable on the sun-warmed leather of the seat cushion.

“We’re going to miss you both,” Sina says as she comes around to where Blue is standing, Dexio in tow. They look like they’re about to hug him (or worse yet, start crying).

Blue flashes Sycamore’s weirdly expressive assistants a reassuring smile before they can make things _truly_ awkward and playfully chides, “You do this every time we fly back home. Do you really think you’re getting rid of me that easily?”

Sina laughs, her eyes misting over a little, and tells him earnestly, “We’ll let the Professor know you said goodbye. He really wanted to be here himself, but well, you know how he is!”

“I do,” Blue agrees with a chuckle. Whether Sycamore was simply swamped with work or chose not to show up for fear of bursting into tears right in the middle of South Boulevard, he can’t actually be sure. What he _does_ know is that he’ll miss his flight if he doesn’t get going soon.

Blue graces his lab partners (friends?) with his signature two-fingered salute and moves to sit beside Eevee, letting Dexio close the door behind him.

“Smell you guys later,” he says with a smirk.

Soon Dexio and Sina are little more than pinpricks waving to him in the distance as the cab ambles down Vernal Avenue, winding through the labyrinthine streets of Lumiose and towards the Kalos region’s largest transport hub.

Blue watches the scenery blur by with only a passing interest. Truth be told, he’s been dreading this day as much as he’s sort of been looking forward to it, and he can almost feel his nerves mounting with each second that ticks by.

When it gets to be too much, Blue reaches a hand out towards Eevee instinctively. Even though she’s busy trying to catch the sunbeams that are spilling into the cab through the window, she does at least dignify him with a head bump to his palm and a soft, reassuring chirp.

Blue smiles at her, convinced that he’d be an absolute basket case if it weren’t for Eevee’s constant companionship, and wonders almost under his breath, “What am I getting myself into, girl?”

* * *

_“Happy birthday,” Blue says quietly into the darkness._

_He watches his breath mist away into swirls above his head, not really expecting a response at all because Red has been either dead or fast asleep beside him for the last few hours. It’s always been a little hard to tell with him._

_To Blue’s surprise, however, Red shifts almost imperceptibly at the sound of his voice, elbow grazing his side. The sleeping bag they’re both huddled in is way too small for a couple of gangly teenagers, Blue thinks with a grimace, wishing he hadn’t been stupid enough to forget his own camping gear back home. Then again, throwing everything he could think of into a single duffel bag and proceeding to climb a mountain several thousand feet high hadn’t exactly been his smartest venture._

_At the end of the day he’d been woefully unprepared – for the cold (bitter and snow-filled, even in early August), for the altitude (Blue is sure he’d be sick to his stomach if he were standing instead of lying down), and especially for seeing Red again after what feels like forever (it’s been 5 years, he reminds himself, but somehow that doesn’t make things any better)._

_Blue stifles a sigh and flexes his fingers involuntarily, finding that his knuckles are still stiff with dried blood – Red’s blood, he knows, because the first thing he’d been compelled to do when he’d found Red in this frigid, glittering cavern had been to deck him right in the face. Blue thinks it might’ve been an overreaction, but the way Red had looked when he’d done it, completely drained of color save for the bruise blossoming right on his cheek, the thin red stripe running down his nose and pooling into the corner of his mouth…_

_“Does it still hurt?” Blue asks out loud at the memory. Red moves again, finally freeing his arm from between their bodies, and searches for Blue’s hand. Blue wonders what he’s doing, irrationally alarmed until it finally occurs to him that Red is trying to speak to him in the dark, hand to hand, the way they used to when they were kids staring up at the sky from the tall grass of his backyard._

_It takes Blue a moment to interpret what it is that Red is signing directly into the palm of his hand, but when he finally understands what he’s saying (“Do you really care?”), a tiny laugh bubbles up somewhere in his throat, the kind of laugh he hasn’t been able to muster in a long, long time because no one gets him the way the boy lying next to him does._

_“You deserved it,” Blue tells him simply, staring at the cavern ceiling curved over their heads with some fascination. There’s a low glow coming from the rock there, almost bioluminescent, though Blue can’t tell if it’s caused by some kind of organic growth or a species of Pokémon he hasn’t encountered before. Gramps would probably know._

_Red nudges him in the ribcage all of a sudden, elbow pressing into the too-thin material of his jacket, and Blue hisses through his teeth at the tenderness he feels there. He’s reminded abruptly that Red hadn’t taken kindly to being hit in the face, and that they’d spent a good few minutes rolling around on the cave ground, sputtering and struggling and throwing punches wildly._

_Red always did have a hell of a left hook._

_“Guess I deserved it, too,” Blue admits with a wry smile, making sure to add, “Thanks, by the way. For not letting Pikachu electrocute me back there.”_

_Red laughs in response – not with his voice, because he hasn’t done that in years, but with his whole body, shoulders shaking silently, and Blue feels something clench in his chest, leaving him momentarily breathless. He hesitates, fingers twitching restlessly, then covers Red’s hand with his own, squeezing maybe a little too hard._

_Red doesn’t say or do anything for several seconds, and just when Blue thinks that maybe he’s overstepped his (weird and admittedly not very well-enforced) boundaries, Red surprises him by shimmying up along the inside of the sleeping bag, angling himself so that he can turn his head and tuck his face right into the crook of Blue’s neck._

_His nose is cold but his breath is warm, and Blue wonders absently if this is Red’s idea of calling a truce. It’s not entirely unpleasant – Blue won’t admit just yet that it’s kind of nice to be this close again, like they’d been in the before-time, when the only things that had actually mattered had been their shared dreams and the promise of a future spent adventuring and exploring together._

_“Hey, Red,” Blue says suddenly, startling the other boy awake; Blue can feel the whisper of Red’s lashes brushing across his neck as he opens his eyes._

_There’s a moment of silence, two, three, and Blue realizes uncomfortably that he’s actually hesitating. The words aren’t coming as easily as they usually do, and having Red’s undivided attention on him is making him feel irrationally anxious, like if he says or does the wrong thing Red might disappear again, this time for good._

_“You’re 16 today, right?” he forges ahead anyway. Red doesn’t reply with his hands, but he does burrow a little deeper into Blue’s neck (Blue has to remind himself to continue breathing when Red absentmindedly lets his mouth rest right on the spot where his pulse is thudding, hard and steady)._

_“So…” Blue licks his lips, blinking rapidly at the ceiling before finishing all in a rush, “So it’s been long enough. Are you ready to come home now?”_

_There’s a subtle shift in Red’s body language all of a sudden, a gradual pulling-away that makes Blue’s stomach drop because he certainly didn’t come all this way just for Red to shut him out. He opens his mouth to say something,_ anything _, but words seem useless in the face of Red’s silence. Blue opts for action instead._

_He doesn’t even think about what he’s doing, turning abruptly in that too-small sleeping bag and feeling for Red’s body in the dark. His hands reach for the first thing they can find – the sharp indent of Red’s hips peeking through the material of his old worn-out jeans – and Blue holds him in place so that Red_ can’t _run away from him again, pressing his forehead into Red’s chest, just to feel the drum of his heart, real and solid and_ there _._

_Red seems thoroughly surprised by this, hands hovering uncertainly before settling lightly onto Blue’s shoulders (Blue pretends he can’t feel the way Red’s fingers are shaking). They stay like that for some time, huddled together in the cold and the dark, until at last Blue finds the courage to speak again._  
  
_“This isn’t the end of it,” he tells Red, firm and resolute. “You can’t stop me from coming back. Someday I’m getting you off this stupid mountain, whether you want me to or not.”_

_Blue wonders if Red believes him. They are, after all, suspended in that strange space between being childhood friends and bitter rivals (and maybe even something else, although it will be a long, long time before Blue faces_ that _possibility head-on). Red doesn’t respond – Blue guesses there’s nothing left to say – but he feels a little less far-away now, at least for the moment, and Blue figures that they’ve got time to work out whatever it is that’s still laying unspoken between them._

_(As usual, Blue figures wrong.)_

* * *

“…Welcome to Vermilion City, ladies and gentlemen.”

Blue startles awake to the sound of a faint ‘beep’ above his head. He blinks the sleep out of his eyes blearily and looks up to see the seatbelt light growing dim, just before Eevee hops neatly into his lap and proceeds to shove her tail into his face. Blue splutters, laughing, and gently shoves her off and to the side. “Nice to see you, too. How long have I been asleep?”

Eevee trills at him in response, pawing at the double-paned window next to her seat, and Blue leans over to see that they certainly aren’t in Kalos anymore. He’d recognize Vermilion City anywhere, with its plentiful waterways housing everything from commercial fishing boats to luxury cruise liners. Blue himself had attended several on-deck trainer parties right on the harbor, though they’d always ended up being just a bit too formal (and lonely) for his liking.

“Here already, huh?” he murmurs under his breath. It occurs to Blue that he’s successfully managed to sleep through most of the trip, though, in his defense, it had been a necessary use of his time – the hours stretching between Kalos and Kanto had probably been the most consistent bit of rest that Blue has gotten in literal months.

He runs the events of the past day quickly through his head – arriving at the airport just in the nick of time, arguing with security when they’d demanded to see Eevee’s paperwork (like he’d _ever_ forget to register her for a cabin seat), sharing a cheap tray of airport food while waiting at the gate (and Eevee being _the_ pickiest eater on the planet thanks to the gourmet tastes she’d acquired in Lumiose), watching barely half of the in-flight film ( _Love in the Time of Pokémon_ , really?) before practically passing out…

Not his _worst_ flight home by any means, although Blue still would’ve preferred to make the trip on the wings of one of his beloved Pokémon instead. Too bad the influx of airborne accidents had gotten serious enough to warrant tighter regulations (Blue suspects the only people _really_ benefiting from the out-of-region flight ban are the airlines making bank off of trainers just like him).

Eevee’s paw on his forearm brings Blue back from his thoughts, just as the captain’s voice drifts through the intercom again (something about dinner trays and overhead bins?). He doesn’t pay as much attention as he probably should, but by the end of the scripted speech Blue figures that it’s about time for them to get a move on. He goes about his business, squeezing between the seats to gather his belongings and wishing that the people standing in line ahead of him would speed things up a little (truth be told, he’s starting to feel a bit claustrophobic after spending so many hours confined to the same seat).

Eevee waits patiently for him, yawning into her furry, cream-colored mane until Blue sees that the path is clear enough for them to make their escape. He pats his shoulder and she wastes no time in clambering up for a ride. Together they make their way through the cabin and into the connecting corridor, nodding politely to the attendants who wave to them as they pass.

At last they reach the exit, to Blue’s relief, and he hopes that it won’t be too much of a chore to find Leaf in the terminal (while simultaneously praying to Arceus that she’ll be discreet about greeting them). He should’ve known better, though, because the first thing he sees when he and Eevee emerge tiredly from the concourse is a huge, glittery display board with the words, 

“ **W E L C O M E**  H O M E   **B L U E**  O A K!

(and Eevee)”

 stenciled across the front.

“Ugh,” he groans to no one in particular, but he’s smiling, too.

When Leaf peers over the top of her sign and catches sight of Blue, her whole face splits into a grin, the kind that reaches her large brown eyes and makes them sparkle in the terminal’s fluorescent light.

“You made it!” she calls to him excitedly, wobbling on her feet as she waves with one hand and tries to balance the sign in the other.

Blue sighs at the sight of her – why does it always hit him at _just_ the last minute how much he actually misses home? – and then he’s striding over, offering his open arms with an affectionate roll of his eyes.

Welcome sign forgotten (much to the annoyance of passengers who now have to maneuver around it), Leaf launches herself at Blue and catches him around the middle in a hug so enthusiastic it almost knocks the two of them (and poor Eevee) back.

Blue yelps in surprise, finding his footing again in a less-than-graceful stumble. Eevee is smart enough to leap off of his shoulder right then, bristling as she watches a girl she hasn’t seen in years practically smother her trainer.

“Sorry, sorry,” Leaf laughs into the collar of Blue’s shirt.

Blue can tell that she isn’t sorry at all, actually, but it feels so good to finally see a familiar face again that he chooses not to call her out on it. Instead he presses his cheek to the top of Leaf’s head and breathes her in deeply: berry shampoo, the same kind she’d used since they were kids, underscored by the unmistakable scent of dewy hills and mossy caverns. It’s the way adventure smells, Blue knows intrinsically, and it’s something his life has been missing for quite some time now.

“Have you gotten taller?” Leaf asks suddenly, voice muffled.

Blue smirks triumphantly in response, drawing away from her to illustrate their new height difference with his hand. “Why, I do believe I have.”

Leaf rolls her eyes at him, looking like she’s about to chastise him for being needlessly competitive about _everything_. Instead her gaze shifts to where Blue’s small, fluffy companion is still sitting warily, watching both humans with suspicion evident on her soft round face.

“Look at you!” Leaf coos, tucking a strand of wayward hair behind her ear and dropping down swiftly to Eevee’s eye level. “Hi there, little girl. Do you remember your Auntie Leaf at all?”

Blue watches as Eevee’s ears flatten back against her head uncertainly, nose twitching. After a moment she rises curiously to meet Leaf’s outstretched hand. When Eevee’s posture finally relaxes, Leaf reaches back slowly to retrieve a small pink poképuff from the front flap of her bag.

“For you,” she announces cheerfully, holding the frosted treat out for Eevee to sniff. Blue stifles a smile as his Pokémon trills excitedly, all inhibitions abandoned, and eagerly takes the peace offering directly from Leaf’s hand.

“You’re going to spoil her,” he admonishes his friend, though it’s a half-hearted reprimand at best.

Leaf scoffs in amusement, straightening back up to her full height and fixing Blue with a raised eyebrow. “Like you don’t already. Seriously, Blue, it’s been 10 years and she _still_ hasn’t evolved?”

One of Eevee’s soft pointed ears twitches, though her attention is still being thoroughly held by the poképuff rolling around on the ground. Blue gives Leaf a scandalized look and quickly mouths, “ _Not in front of her!”_

“Your dad is a mess,” Leaf informs Eevee matter-of-factly, bending at the waist to scoop her up off the floor. Eevee seems perfectly content to use Leaf’s forearm as a poképuff holder and continues to munch through the treat’s crispy outer shell eagerly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Blue sniffs, waving a hand dismissively. “Help me grab my stuff already.”

He starts off in the direction of the baggage claim station, resisting the urge to laugh when Leaf calls behind him in an annoyed huff, “Don’t forget the sign!!!”

* * *

“I put my heart and soul into making this for you,” Leaf informs him dramatically when they’ve finally gathered the rest of Blue’s luggage and are heading towards the airport carpark half an hour later. Eevee is tucked under her left arm while the opposite hand drags along the dented cardboard sign that Blue hadn’t been fast enough to rescue from the wrath of a stray rolling cart. 

Blue bites back a laugh. “Sorry, Leaf. Though I gotta say, it’s very… _you_ , that’s for sure.”

“You’re such an ingrate,” Leaf glowers, but it’s clear that she’s not actually offended. On the contrary, Leaf actually seems pleased that Blue hasn’t said anything overtly jerky about her handiwork. “I’ll have you know that I worked all day on this.”

“No, you didn’t,” Blue says simply.

“No, I didn’t,” Leaf agrees, and they share a look before dissolving into laughter, echoes bouncing around the mostly empty lot and trailing along behind them as they search for Leaf’s car.

When they finally approach what appears to be the vehicle in question, Blue turns to fix Leaf with an incredulous look.

“ _This_ is yours?” he asks in disbelief.

It’s flashier than he expected, a bright cherry color that’s visible even in the fading light of evening, clearly a convertible model. It’s the kind of car that Blue would’ve fantasized about owning as a kid, but can’t quite see the practical application of a mere 10 years later.

“It’s a _rental_ ,” Leaf assures him with a roll of her eyes, bouncing Eevee a bit in the crook of her arm and muttering conspiratorially, “Does your dad _always_ act like an old man?”

Blue ignores her, instead wondering out loud, “ _Why_ are we driving to Pallet again?” before rooting around through Leaf’s bag for the keys. She didn’t ask for his help, Blue realizes vaguely, but then again, she’s never really needed to. They’ve always been good at the non-verbal communication thing – _thanks to Red,_ he thinks before he can stop himself – and it’s kind of nice to know that that much hasn’t changed.

When he finally fishes out the car keys – after expertly maneuvering around poképuff frosting and a tube of lipstick that Leaf had apparently left uncapped in her bag – Blue unlocks the door and pops the trunk open for himself, doing a much quicker (and more efficient) job of arranging his luggage than Dexio and Sina had.

He comes around to the passenger side door a minute or so later and finds that Eevee has already made herself at home in his seat. She’s kneading at the soft leather with her paws, mewling in appreciation at the cool air ruffling her cheek fur from the vent some inches away.

Blue has to admit – she really _does_ come off as spoiled.

“Back seat, young lady,” he scolds playfully, and Eevee bristles at him in annoyance until Leaf manages to bribe her away with her seemingly endless supply of poképuffs.

“Got these babies from the Pewter City gym leader,” she says by way of explanation, grabbing the rental keys Blue drops off into her cupholder. “He makes his own special blend and sells ‘em right out of the gym. Still holding on to that dream of eventually becoming a breeder, I guess.”

“What about you?” Blue asks as he pulls the passenger side belt over himself, securing the buckle with a soft ‘click’. “Got any new dreams of your own?”

Leaf shrugs noncommittally, flashing him an airy smile as she starts up the car and steers them deftly out of the parking lot. “You know me. I’ll probably just spend the rest of my life adventuring or something. There’s always more to see out there.”

“I haven’t really been doing much sight-seeing lately,” Blue admits, self-consciously running his fingers over the row of pokéballs lining his belt. “Not doing as much battling as I’d like to, either.”

“All work and no play?” Leaf asks, eyes focused on a spot beyond the windshield. Blue studies her side profile and marvels over how little she’s changed over the years.

“Life of a research assistant,” he finally shrugs in response, trying not to think about the mounds of paperwork that will be waiting for him back at the lab by the time this whole wedding ordeal is over and done with.

“Consider this a vacation, then,” Leaf tells him cheerfully, sounding for all intents and purposes like she actually believes it. Blue doesn’t know how to respond to that – it’s both too early into the trip and too late in the day to start discussing how he’s feeling about everything. Instead he rests his head on the cool glass of the passenger side window and watches the scenery melt away, breathing in the smell of sea salt and water taffy as it filters in from Vermilion Harbor.

“Daisy’s going to be so stoked to see you,” Leaf says after some time has passed. Blue catches her eye as she glances briefly at him and sees that a smile is already starting on her face. “Your Gramps, too, of course. And like, all of Pallet.”

“Did they think I wouldn’t make it?” Blue asks quizzically. He recalls the last time he’d spoken to his sister – a week or so ago? – and how he’d reassured her repeatedly that there wouldn’t be any hiccups in his travel plans.

Leaf waves her free hand dismissively, but she looks a little uncomfortable, too, and Blue thinks he can guess why.

“You guys can stop handling me with kid gloves already,” he tells her point-blank, echoing the sentiment he’d shared with Daisy months ago. “I’m not gonna start a scene or anything.”

“You’d better not,” Leaf warns him, trying to sound threatening but coming off as a bit pleading instead. “Besides, Red’s not even home yet.” 

Blue thinks that it shouldn’t bother him, knowing that the person he’s been losing sleep over doesn’t even have the decency to be back in town the week before his life-long neighbor’s wedding. It bothers him anyway.

“What’s new?” he bites out, a bit more harshly than he’d intended. Leaf gives him a _look_.

“This again?” she groans in frustration. “When are you gonna grow up already?” (Blue thinks that it’s an ironic statement coming from someone who still looks and acts exactly like she did as a kid.)

“I’m plenty grown,” he grouses at her, though he’s starting to gets the impression that his sulking isn’t really selling the point. He clears his throat and tries to sit up a little higher in his seat, much to Leaf’s amusement.

“You’ve been a mess ever since you got Daisy’s invitation back in April,” she reminds him, and Blue finds that he can’t really argue with that because it’s the truth.

“It’s just… a lot, I guess,” he says at last, surprised by how tired his voice sounds. “I already have so much on my plate right now with work and school and…”

“Hoping your problems will disappear if you just ignore them long enough?” Leaf interjects innocently. If she were anyone else Blue would probably demand that she stop the car immediately and just walk the rest of the way home.

“I haven’t been _ignoring_ anything,” he hisses, then smoothes his voice over when Eevee trills questioningly at him from the back seat. “I just don’t have the energy to deal with _him_ anymore. It never ends well, okay?”

“Red’s been waiting for you to come around for a long time,” Leaf tells him softly. “He just wants to talk.”

“Then why hasn’t _he_ said anything, huh?” Blue snaps in frustration, feeling his composure starting to crack. He blinks rapidly, runs a hand through his hair (bad idea – after so many hours in a plane it’s already starting to look more than a little unmanageable), and takes a deep breath before continuing, “He knows where I am. Which is more than I’ve _ever_ been able to say for him.”

“You’ve never forgiven him for Mt. Silver, huh?” Leaf asks thoughtfully.

Blue fixes her with a miserable look before shrugging. “I told you before, Leaf. _He_ ran away first.”

“So that excuses you deserting him after the tournament?” she presses.

Blue deliberately avoids Leaf’s eyes, still not entirely sure _how_ _much_ she knows about their overseas debacle, and finds that his throat is uncomfortably dry as he tries to explain, “I needed some space. Things were so messed up between us.”

“It’s been years, Blue,” Leaf informs him, as though Blue somehow _hasn’t_ been reminded of that fact every single day since he’d last seen Red. He opens his mouth to argue, to defend himself somehow, but Leaf interrupts him first. “You really hurt him.”

There’s something in the way she says it, something that reminds Blue abruptly that Red had been as much Leaf’s childhood friend as he’d been Blue’s. The way he’d treated Red, the things he’d said and done from the moment they’d applied for their trainer IDs to the moment they’d faced off at the precipice of the Indigo Plateau and beyond… none of that could’ve escaped her notice.

Blue feels the lead weight of guilt sink deep into the pit of his stomach, opening his mouth to apologize – for what, he’s not entirely sure; there’s so much to pick from – but Leaf interrupts him again.

“Look, I promise I’m not here to lecture you,” she says briskly. “I’m just tired of watching you guys dance around each other _all the time_. At least make an effort, will you?”

She waits a beat, then turns the full force of her soft brown eyes on him. “For me?”

Blue can’t help but think that Leaf looks _way_ too much like Eevee sometimes.

“ _Fine_ ,” he grumbles, trying to sound annoyed but finding that his voice isn’t quite cooperating with him right now. “I will _try_ to be civil, okay?”

Leaf weighs the validity of his statement; then, after a moment of silent contemplation, the smile returns to her face. “Good! Because if you cause even an ounce of drama at your sister’s wedding…”

The look she shoots him clearly tells Blue that this is not up for debate. “…I will personally end you.”

_(Unfortunately for Blue, Leaf has always been pretty good about keeping her promises.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a longer chapter this time (though it still ended up being mostly about travel, SIGH). Lots of notes on this one, in no particular order:
> 
> **a.** Red is using a form of tactile ASL in the flashback sequence. It’s partly an excuse to get to touch Blue more.  
>  **b.** Red has always struck me as someone who’s super reserved, but has no problem being physically expressive with people he’s close to (so his mom, Leaf, and Blue by default of them having grown up together). Blue doesn’t always know what to make of it.  
>  **c.** Red and Blue’s interactions are heavily inspired by my own experiences with my first girlfriend, who was also my (hyper-competitive) BFF. Navigating a relationship with someone like that can be pretty confusing (half the time your brain is screaming, “It’s not gay if you’re friends!”). Both Red and Blue need some time to sort out their obliviousness.  
>  **d.** Leaf’s car is based off of Gary Oak’s wildly inappropriate convertible from the anime. Too bizarre not to pay homage to.
> 
> Next chapter: homecoming! See you all soon!


	4. Chapter 4

They arrive in Pallet Town quite a bit later than planned. Halfway through the drive Eevee had begun yowling for a bathroom break, so Leaf had quickly made a detour to the nearest Pokémon Center (“Pewter City”, her nav system had informed them), not wanting to pay the extra rental fee for a backseat cleaning.

Their five-minute stop had turned into ten minutes, then twenty, then half an hour, between grabbing snacks for the rest of the trip, chatting up the local Joy about recent events, and even signing a few autographs (Blue has to admit, being recognized out in public never did get old). It had been up to Leaf to shoo him out the door eventually, shoving chips into her mouth while Eevee hung off of her shoulder, trying to swipe food from their overstuffed shopping bag. 

In spite of how eventful the last 24 hours have already been, Blue can’t help but wish that they were still on the road by the time they finally pull up into the driveway of his childhood home. He slinks back into his seat, glancing furtively through the car window and finding, to his relief, that no one appears to be outside waiting for them.

“It’s not an ambush,” Leaf laughs from beside him, dusting crumbs off of the front of her shirt. “It’s just family.”

“What’s the difference?” Blue grumbles. Leaf swats at his arm, giving him a stern look, and then they’re both opening their respective doors, stepping out into the warm summer air.

Pallet hasn’t changed at all, Blue notes as he stops to survey the street he grew up on. There’s the old mailbox, paint chipping off from too many years of exposure to the elements. Scribbled across the side in a child’s clumsy scrawl are the words “BLUE’S HOUSE”. _(Blue remembers how he’d begged Gramps to let him put his name on the mailbox, because Red’s parents had let him write on theirs and anything that Red did, Blue had always wanted to do, too.)_

There’s the neighborhood garden, the one that Delia had helped Daisy start right after the car crash. _(Blue remembers that Red’s dad passed away some time later, too, several years after his own parents, and he thinks of how Daisy and Red’s mom spent a lot of time together in the days that followed, tending to the flowers in silence.)_

There’s Red’s house with its cheery little porch, the antique rocking chair they used to fight over as kids but inevitably always ended up sharing (he bites back a smile at the thought of them now, two grown men trying to fit into that creaky old seat), the yard where they’d camped out under the stars during the summer, laughing into the night and making up stories about the constellations dotting the sky _(at least until Red stopped speaking, some time after he’d lost his dad but before Leaf had arrived in Pallet)_ …

There’s a meaningful ‘ahem’ from somewhere behind him. Blue turns abruptly to see that Leaf is watching him with a funny expression on her face, Eevee peeking out from behind her shock of long brown hair. He shrugs helplessly at them and Leaf softens a little, tucking her arm into Blue’s and steering him in the direction of the front steps.

“Memory lane will still be here later,” she tells him, not unkindly, raising a hand to rap three times on the door and bouncing impatiently beside him until it swings wide open.

On the other side of the threshold Blue sees several familiar faces – Daisy, beaming at him from just a few feet away, Gramps and Delia, looking up from their evening tea with delighted expressions (maybe a little less enthusiastic on Gramps’s part, but Blue is pretty used to that by now), Bill, who he’s only met a handful of times before, waving to him politely from the front room.

“Brought him to you, safe and sound,” Leaf announces, clapping Blue on the back with surprising force. He sputters a little, shooting her a glowering look, but it doesn’t last because his sister and Red’s mom descend on him almost instantly, fussing over him as though he were suddenly 10 years old again. It’s honestly pretty embarrassing (even if the attention _is_ kind of nice).

“How was your flight?” Daisy asks sunnily, bright green eyes searching his face as she draws back to hold him at arm’s length. “Have you eaten anything? Delia made tea but we can whip something up for you if you’re hungry!”

Blue waves off Daisy’s fretting coolly, though he’s finding it hard not to smile at how happy she seems to be now that he’s finally home. “I’m fine,” he reassures her. “Had some terrible airport food on the way down, then me and Leaf stopped for snacks at a Pokémon Center.”

Daisy turns on her heel to give Leaf a stern look, and the brunette laughs sheepishly, rubbing at the back of her head. “What? I’m pretty sure chips are a food group, and Eevee needed to use the little girl’s room…”

She trails off as Daisy rushes over to her suddenly, leaving Blue to hover near the doorway while she coos at the Pokémon peeking out from behind the cascade of Leaf’s hair. “Hi, Eevee!”

“Don’t scare her!” Blue calls to his sister, who ‘tsks’ in his direction but otherwise proceeds to completely ignore him in favor of his Pokémon. He shakes his head with a laugh and turns his attention to Red’s mom instead, who seems to be studying him with those dark shimmery eyes of hers. ( _Please don’t cry_ , Blue thinks silently – he’s _really_ not ready for things to get sappy just yet).

“How are you, Blue?” Delia finally asks in that soft, motherly lilt that he remembers from back when they were all still kids.

“Hi, Mrs. A,” Blue greets her, and she meets him in a brief but surprisingly heartfelt hug, the kind that puts a bit of a lump in his throat because it always, _always_ reminds him of his own mother.

“You’re looking so grown-up these days,” she tells him fondly, sweeping a hand over the auburn fringe scattered across his forehead. “Though I’d say it’s about time for a haircut, wouldn’t you, dear?”

“I’m okay,” he laughs, ducking out from under her arms and flashing her his usual salute; she shakes her head at him through a smile and turns to click the door closed, leaving Blue to walk further into the front room where his grandfather and Daisy’s fiancé are both seated. “Yo, Gramps. Bill.”

Bill strides over to him first, extending a hand which Blue meets in a firm handshake. “Hi, Blue,” he says, with a hint of uncertainty in his voice (Blue wonders if meeting your future spouse’s family is as nerve-wracking as everyone always makes it out to be). “Daisy tells me you’ll be spending the week here with us. I’m looking forward to hearing more about your research over in Kalos.”

Professor Oak seems to perk up at the mention of ‘research’, twisting around in his seat to fix his only grandson with an appraising look. “Good evening, Blue,” he says at last. “I’ve just finished reviewing your publication on Fairy typing. You seem to be doing some fascinating work with Professor Sycamore.”

Blue bites back a smile, trying with all his might to _not_ come off as elated as he’s feeling. _Gramps is just like anyone else_ , he reminds himself sternly. _It’s not like his opinion really matters or anything_ – but it’s no use because Blue knows in his heart of hearts that gaining Professor Oak’s approval has always been so stupidly important to him.

“Thanks,” he replies with an air of feigned nonchalance. “We’re delving pretty extensively into Mega Evolution these days. The Professor’s been trusting me with some stone samples we found on a dig a few months ago. He thinks we might be onto something big.”

Oak studies him for a moment, then nods briefly before snapping his fingers. “Ah, that’s right. I was supposed to remind you to get in touch with Lance as soon as you’re able. Apparently you haven’t been as diligent in your League correspondence as you have been with your research?”

And just like that Blue feels like he’s back at his grandfather’s laboratory, standing on the receiving end of another one of Gramps’s lectures on responsibility and decorum (ironic, really, because the old man is always forgetting things at the drop of a hat).

He rolls his eyes, much to Oak’s chagrin, and finds that there’s some small solace in knowing he can still get under his grandfather’s skin. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get to it when I get to it.”

Thankfully Daisy decides that this is just the right moment to swoop into their conversation (big sister senses or something, Blue figures silently). Leaf and Eevee follow along beside her while Delia busies herself with preparing more tea in the kitchen.

“What are you boys talking about?” Daisy chirps, tone sugary sweet. She narrows her eyes at both her brother and her grandfather. “And I’d better not hear ‘work’.”

Blue laughs sheepishly, sharing a look with Oak and Bill before shrugging. “Just stuff.”

“Lumiose City?” Bill interjects helpfully, and Blue silently mouths, “ _Thanks, man”_ because being lectured by both Gramps _and_ his sister on the same night isn’t exactly his idea of a good time.

“Really?” Daisy seems to take the bait, settling herself down excitedly onto the arm of the chair Bill is occupying. “Tell me all about it!”

* * *

Several hours – and steaming hot cups of tea – later, Blue believes he’s reached his threshold for human interaction for about the next 6 months.

Most of the conversation tonight has revolved around life in Lumiose City. Blue’s told the group all about his favorite restaurant on Autumnal Avenue, the cute little café Eevee loves to frequent on Sunday mornings (he really has to stop spoiling her before she goes bad), how well he’s doing in school and all the great new friends he’s made (Leaf makes a sound in her throat that’s almost a cough here, but Blue is mature enough to ignore her), how he’s looking forward to making Kalos his permanent residence after graduation.

“All boys really do leave home someday,” Delia says sadly at this. Daisy gives her shoulders a sympathetic squeeze while Blue avoids her dark soulful eyes (she and Red have too much in common for Blue’s comfort sometimes).

“But they do come back from time to time,” Daisy says affectionately, clearly overjoyed that her brother hasn’t forgotten about his family just yet.

Blue rolls his eyes at her – she’s way too sentimental for her own good sometimes, really – but he’s smiling, too, because in spite of his earlier protests he really has missed this stupid old house with its small, cheery living room, filled with the people who know him best.

“I’m not going anywhere just yet, you know,” he says matter-of-factly, nodding in Daisy’s direction with a smirk. “Gotta get this one married off, first.”

Daisy smiles at him over the rim of her teacup, cheeks pink, and Blue glances nonchalantly to where Bill is chatting with Gramps, sizing him up silently. He seems nice enough – certainly dressed for the occasion with his long-sleeved button-up shirt and dark slacks – and he _has_ been politely following along with the conversation all evening, only interjecting when he’s found something relevant to say.

Still…

Blue rises from his seat with a creak and a stretch. The armchair with its faded floral pattern is practically ancient by now, and the springs poking randomly through the cushions have really done a number on his back tonight.

“Hey, Daisy,” he says, when he’s done feeling like an old man. “Wanna help me take these into the kitchen?”

Blue gestures to the empty cups and saucers lining the coffee table in the center of the room, and Daisy gives him a confused smile until it finally dawns on her that her brother wants to speak in private. She stands with more poise than Blue has ever been able to muster in his whole life, skirt swishing gracefully around her legs, and helps him collect the teaware quickly.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Delia asks from the couch, looking alarmed at the fact that Blue is balancing one cup too many on his way to the kitchen. “I could give you a hand!”

Leaf, who’s been scrolling through her Holo Caster’s display screen for the better part of an hour, finally looks up from what she’s doing to smile at Red’s mom.

“You’ve been on tea duty all night. Take a break, Mrs. A,” she says cheerfully, and Blue smiles at Leaf over his shoulder because no one knows how to read a room quite like her. He hovers in the doorway, watching as she pulls up a video to distract the rest of the group with (something about Meowths trying to fit into increasingly smaller boxes), then follows his sister into the kitchen.

Daisy is already at the sink by the time Blue brings in his armful of cups. She helps him set them all down, turns on the faucet, and finally fixes her brother with a nervous look.

“So?” she blurts out, like she’s been meaning to ask him since the moment he arrived. “What do you think of him?”

“Well, Bill’s not really my type,” Blue jokes, and Daisy narrows her eyes at him before swatting him with a dishtowel.

“Blue Oak!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Blue laughs, ducking out of the way before Daisy can hit him again. He busies himself with filling the sink with soap, watching the suds rise up in tiny translucent bubbles, and finally shrugs in response. “He seems like a nice guy. Kinda quiet, but I guess it beats being a loudmouth like me.”

Daisy giggles beside him, nudging him affectionately with her shoulder. “You should’ve seen him earlier today,” she tells him, voice conspiratorially low. “He was _so_ nervous about meeting you.”

“Me?” Blue asks, grabbing a teacup at random and sponging it down while Daisy runs another one under the water. “You sure he wasn’t talking about Gramps?”

“Grandpa and Bill are old acquaintances,” Daisy informs him, rinsing suds off of the saucer she’s holding. “ _You_ , on the other hand, are the big scary Kanto Champion.”

Blue snorts at this, fighting off the familiar sting that surfaces every time someone brings up his status as former Champ. “ _Was_ ,” he corrects his sister, only half-heartedly attempting to keep the bitterness from his voice. “That’s someone else’s title now.”

“Well, your reputation still precedes you,” Daisy tells him, expertly tiptoeing around the subject of _why_ Blue never did get to enjoy the perks of being the reigning Champ. She’s smart, Blue has to give her that.

“What, did he think I was gonna challenge him to a Pokémon battle or something?”

Daisy laughs at this, and Blue makes a mental note to find out more about Bill’s skills as a trainer someday.

“Don’t be silly,” she replies, then adds nonchalantly, “He just wasn’t sure how to approach you about being his best man.”

“Best man?” Blue echoes with some surprise. He’d assumed that the wedding party situation would’ve already been ironed out by now; it certainly hadn’t occurred to him that Daisy and Bill would want him of all people to hold such an important position at their ceremony.

“Bill doesn’t have any brothers,” Daisy says by way of explanation, flashing Blue a hopeful smile. “And he knows how important family is to me. It would mean a lot to us both if you’d consider it.”

“What’s in it for me?” Blue asks, half-joking, and Daisy flicks him playfully with dishwater.

“You’re terrible,” she laughs, squeaking when Blue splashes her back.

“Okay,” he says at last, without fanfare.

Daisy blinks at him. “Okay…?”

“Okay,” Blue repeats, biting back a smile. “I’ll be your best man or whatever.”

“Oh, Blue!”

Daisy throws her arms around him in delight. Blue grimaces as he realizes that she hasn’t dried her hands off yet, but he hugs her back anyway, because his sister’s enthusiasm has always been infectious.

“Don’t expect me to dance or anything, though,” Blue warns her as Daisy draws back away from him, still smiling. “And I want dibs on the first toast. If anyone’s gonna make Gramps cry, it’s gonna be me.”

Daisy looks like _she_ might be the one to cry right now, actually, but she holds her emotions in check bravely and nods instead, looking happier than Blue has seen her look in a long, long time. “Deal.”

They finish the rest of the dishes in relative silence, only stopping to fling water at each other once or twice more. By the time they come back out into the living room, both Gramps and Eevee are already asleep in the old armchair, her fluffy tail swatting at the Professor’s face as she dreams (probably about expensive cream-filled poffins served on a gold platter).

“I think we’ve all had enough excitement for one day,” Leaf yawns, standing from where she’s been sitting cross-legged on the floor. “Better call it a night, huh? My parents are gonna want to see me at least once while I’m in town.”

“Of course! Thanks so much for visiting, Leaf,” Daisy says warmly, meeting the younger girl in a quick goodbye hug.

Blue sticks his tongue out at Leaf over his sister’s shoulder, ever the dignified adult, and she scowls at him in response, leaning over to flick him in the forehead playfully. The two of them squabble for several seconds until Delia steps in to pry them apart gently, fixing them both with the force of her motherly stare.

“Good night, children,” she says pointedly. Her tone is equal parts amused and stern, though it does soften a bit as she adds, “Be sure to stop by the house this week. Red will be so happy to see you both.”

It only takes a second for Blue’s whole demeanor to change.

“Red’s here?” he blurts out before he can stop himself. Several pairs of eyes are on him in an instant – Leaf cautious, Daisy hopeful, Bill very, very confused – and Blue can feel his face grow hot, mentally berating himself for being such an open book all the time.

“Well, no,” Delia replies uncertainly, expression faltering a little before she picks herself back up with practiced ease. “But he will be! He wouldn’t miss Daisy’s wedding for the whole world.”

“We can’t wait to see him,” Leaf assures her, squeezing Delia’s hands with a smile. Then she turns her gaze to Blue, mercilessly teasing. “Isn’t that right, Blue?”

“Good _night,_ Leaf,” Blue says, a little too sharply. Leaf just laughs, waving to the room before disappearing through the front door. Delia follows several minutes later, having finally completed her goodbyes (and her inspection of Blue’s dishwashing), and soon only the Oaks and Bill are left in the small house.

“I take it my room is still free?” Blue asks, feeling the weight of the day starting to settle on him all at once.

“Sorry, Blue,” Daisy says mildly, waggling her eyebrows at her younger brother. “We’ve decided to renovate it into a nursery.”

“ _Daisy_ ,” Blue and Bill both groan in unison.

Daisy smiles sunnily at them, the picture of innocence. “Sleep tight!”

* * *

Being back in his childhood room is always a little disconcerting, no matter how long Blue has been away. Maybe it’s because the room never changes – same painted green walls, same rickety old desk shoved into the corner, covered in crinkled Pokémon drawings and trophies Blue can’t even remember having ever won, same twin-sized bed always outfitted in Gengar-patterned sheets (did they even make that particular set anymore?).

There’s a lot of history in this room, from the window he’d pushed Red out of one summer (accidentally, of course; they’d been play-fighting too close to the fluttering curtains and Red had never blamed him for the broken arm that had resulted from their carelessness), to the spot that only he knows exists in the very back of his closet, the one he’d hidden in for an entire day after Gramps had moved in permanently.

When he’s in Lumiose City, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of people and Pokémon leading their daily lives out in the open, Blue feels like a grown-up. He orders cappuccinos just like other adults do (and highly prefers coffee to tea at this point), does his own laundry at least once a week (though he does still occasionally forget to separate his colors from his whites), and has learned to balance a checkbook now that he’s finally financially responsible for himself (Gramps hadn’t allowed him to dip into his League prize money until he’d turned 21, which, in retrospect, had probably been a very, very good call).

When he’s here, though, in the small, sleepy town where he was born and raised, the small, untouched room where he’d played and cried and dreamed for so much of his life… Blue doesn’t feel like he’s all that grown-up anymore.

He sighs, dropping his bag off near the closed door and padding tiredly towards his bed. Eevee had refused to budge from Gramps’s lap even when he’d tried to bribe her away (they don’t call him the ‘Pokémon Prof’ for nothing, Blue supposes), so he’s well and truly alone now. There isn’t even a television in the room to distract himself with, and he’s certainly not about to catch up on the day’s social media highlights this late into the evening.

So Blue does the only thing he can think of: he sits at the edge of his bed, close to where the curtains are fluttering in the warm summer breeze, and he gives in to the urge to look out across the way, where he knows Red’s bedroom window is.

Here, where it’s dark and quiet and no one can intrude on his thoughts, Blue allows himself to feel the familiar ache that makes its way into the center of his very being every time he thinks about Red.

Not for the first time today Blue wonders where he is right now and what he’s doing _(who he’s with)_ , whether or not he’s still wearing that same stupid cap _(probably)_ , how many new scars he’s gained since last they’d seen each other _(Blue can still remember tracing the criss-cross patterns on Red’s back with his nails, the faded burn mark right above his ribcage from when he’d shielded Pikachu from a wayward Fire Blast, the tiny nick on the side of his face from when Blue had hit him, the day they’d met again on Mt. Silver)_.

So much of his life is inextricably connected to Red – to Leaf, too, though in a very, very different way – and the realization dawns on Blue that he may not be able to survive the week after all, because if he’s in _this_ much turmoil when Red isn’t even here yet, what can he expect from himself when he finally _does_ arrive?

Blue decides that he doesn’t want to think about him anymore, _can’t_ think about him anymore, at least not tonight. With a little more harshness than is probably warranted he slams the window closed, bunching the curtains together so that there’s barely a sliver visible on the other side, and sinks down onto his bed miserably.

It takes longer than he’d like, but when sleep finally does claim him, Blue doesn’t even have the heart to dream.

* * *

The next few days pass by relatively quickly, much to Blue’s surprise. The whole of Pallet seems personally invested in Daisy’s upcoming wedding (that’s small-town living for you), so there’s always someone new to see or something new to do in that last week leading up to the big event.

Blue barely has enough time to wallow in self-pity anymore; as Bill’s newly-appointed best man, he’s pretty much in-demand from the moment he wakes up to Daisy’s homemade pancakes to the moment he drifts off to Eevee’s snoring (after that first night he vows never again to sleep in his old room without her there).

He and Leaf help Daisy sample wedding cakes on Sunday morning, because Bill is apparently lactose-intolerant and his sister doesn’t trust Gramps’s palate. Daisy and Leaf seem partial to the citrus berry flavors, while Blue prefers the stronger coffee-infused cakes. (Red would hate them both, Blue thinks). Thankfully the bakery is run by wizards who can somehow build an entire three-tier confection in less than a week.

On Monday Blue accompanies Red’s mom to a boutique in Celadon City, the same one where Daisy claims to have found her ‘absolutely perfect!’ wedding gown. He helps Delia pick out a dress that will match the suit they’ve reserved for Red, though Blue can’t really imagine him ever wearing anything but jeans and a t-shirt, even to a wedding. At this point he’s not even sure if Red will show up at all, though, so he tries not to give the matter much thought.

Tuesday is all about running the errands that Daisy has been too busy to oversee herself. Blue spends most of his time phoning vendors, finalizing details in a hundred different ways (“No, no, she doesn’t _want_ daisies, her name _is_ Daisy! Can I speak to your manager?!”), and deciding right then and there that he’s never getting married (or volunteering to help organize another wedding) if he can help it.

Halfway through the week, Blue strongly considers throwing himself out the window when Daisy knocks on his door at 7:30. By 9:00 – and in spite of Blue’s better judgment – he and Bill are on their way to Vermilion City to pick up all 6 of the Palmers. Three of them are arriving by air, two by ship, and the other hasn’t even confirmed their travel plans yet. Blue doesn’t say anything about it, but he secretly starts to wonder what kind of family his sister is marrying into.

Thursday is shaping up to be the busiest day by far, because Daisy and Bill are officially getting hitched on Saturday and apparently everyone is expected to pitch in and get the venue all set up over the next 48 hours.

Blue doesn’t mind this part so much – it’s kind of nice to be outside working in the summer sunshine, hammering in the stakes that they’ll be using to secure the outdoor tents. Even his Pokémon are happy to help with small jobs here and there. (Eevee, who is too good for manual labor, spends most of the morning napping in the shade of the tree Blue used to climb a million years ago.)

Leaf arrives early in the afternoon with cheap, watered-down Viridian coffee (Blue drinks it anyway) and reminds him that they still have to pick up the floral arrangements from Erika in Celadon City before the shop closes for the evening. She tells him that she’s on food prep duty today (Blue had completely forgotten about the big rehearsal shindig happening tomorrow night), so he’ll have to borrow the car later to make sure they meet their deadline.

Blue is actually starting to feel pretty good about how things are progressing, in spite of all the work that’s still ahead of them, so it stands to reason that today is the day when Red finally decides to appear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sister used to ask me to wash dishes with her whenever she wanted to gossip at a family function. I kind of consider it a Sibling Thing now, haha.
> 
> Next chapter: A wild Red FINALLY appears! I was really gunning to have him show up here, but alas things would've run on for too long. That being said, I'm pretty excited about what's to come - see you all (hopefully) soon!


	5. Chapter 5

The funny thing about Red is that he’s never made a big deal about anything: not when he single-handedly took out an underground criminal empire at age 11, not when he crushed Kanto’s finest that same year, then proceeded to strip Blue of his hard-won title before Gramps could even appear in person to congratulate him (Blue still doesn’t know how to feel about being the shortest-reigning Champion in history)… not even when he disappeared up a mountain for 7 years, presumably to become some kind of hermit.

_Blue still remembers the panic that had seized him the morning Delia had appeared at his doorstep, red-rimmed eyes pleading for an answer. “Do you know where my son is, Blue?”_

_From what Blue had been able to gather, Red had disappeared sometime in the middle of the night, taking only what he’d already had on his person – a backpack with some supplies, his Pokémon, and an old Pokégear device with no charger._

_Blue had already been dealing with so much at the time – they’d only just conquered the League, and all of Kanto was still reeling from the news that Indigo Plateau had seen not one, but_ two _Champions overnight, and fledgling trainers at that. Everyone wanted a piece of the proverbial pie: regional news stations, gossip magazines, publishers clamoring to be the first to get their hands on an autobiography (or a juicy tell-all, which Blue strongly considered writing as the years dragged on)._

_Even though he’d been in exceptionally high demand at the time (because the public loved a tragedy as much as they loved celebrating triumph), Blue remembers feeling like a colossal failure. He’d achieved his life-long dream and literally watched it dissolve right before his very eyes all in the same day, and to top it all off, the person who had snatched the spotlight away from him had been the boy he’d once shared those very dreams with._

_In a way Blue had wanted for Red to disappear, wanted him to take his silence and his stoicism and go somewhere far, far away, so that Blue didn’t have to spend every waking moment hating him (and, above all, himself)._

_What he hadn’t expected was what it felt like to actually lose him._

_Blue likens it to the day Gramps told him his mom and dad were dead – he’d been so, so young then, and even Daisy had just been a little girl – except that he was old enough when Red left to know that people who disappeared had a tendency of never coming back._

_Blue remembers stumbling past Delia in a haze, single-minded focus leading him into her home and up the stairs to her son’s room (some time later, when his functioning had returned to semi-normal, he’d regret invading their space without permission)._

_He thinks of how he’d searched wildly for Red – for anything, really, proof that he’d actually existed to begin with – and how his breathing had started to go funny the longer he stayed there, in the room of a boy he’d wished away not 24 hours ago._

It’s a place in his memory that Blue tries very, very hard not to go back to, because even he can’t deny that Red leaving changed him. It made him question everything he’d ever known about himself – including whether or not he’d ever hated Red to begin with – and he simply can’t afford to feel that kind of vulnerability ever again, at least not since he’d stumbled so badly in that hotel room in Unova.

So when he finally hears the familiar ‘whoosh’ of powerful wings in the sky above them, feeling the strong gust that precedes an airborne Pokémon’s landing, Blue knows that he’s out of time. Red’s arrival is imminent, and if it’s anything like Blue imagines, it’ll happen in the most mundanely jarring way possible – as though he’d never been gone to begin with.

Blue doesn’t turn around right away, not when the ache in his chest is starting to bloom with a terrifying swiftness, but it doesn’t matter because it only takes Leaf a moment to realize what Blue has already figured out.

_“Red!”_

She’s off before Blue can even say her name, kicking up bits of loose earth in her wake, and he finally turns just in time to watch Leaf launch herself into Red’s arms. It’s the most bizarre thing, because Leaf has always been so open with both of them, but somehow, seeing Red catch her in mid-jump, the way he spins her around so effortlessly, hearing the clear, happy din of her laughter, knowing that the smile on his face is there because of her…

Blue feels absolutely sick to his stomach.

The urge to run is overwhelming, a silent siren blaring wildly in his head, but Blue knows he _can’t_ – he’d promised Daisy and Leaf and even himself that he’d do everything in his power to stick this out. So, instead, Blue does what he’s always done best: he puts on the mask.

Cool, calm, collected; better than you and holier-than-thou. Blue’s untouchable when he’s like this, and stronger for it, he thinks, because when Leaf finally draws away from him Red is looking expectantly in Blue’s direction, dark eyes carefully guarded but still, somehow, so stupidly hopeful.

“’Sup, loser?” Blue calls over to him without missing a beat. Leaf frowns at him in confusion but Red just looks sheepish, waving awkwardly and looking for all intents and purposes like he wishes he’d just stayed wherever the hell he’d been hiding out this past week.

 _Good,_ Blue thinks to himself with some smugness. He’s not the only one responsible for how things have turned out between them, and Red is long overdue for a little payback.

Before he can stoke the fire any further, however, Blue watches as the scene before him morphs into a familiar sight: everyone in the vicinity of Pallet’s golden boy promptly drops whatever it is they’re doing (hammering, cooking, talking, hell, _breathing_ ) and proceed to surround him in their excitement.

They chatter eagerly around him – _at_ him, really, because Red never responds, at least not in a way they can understand – hands reaching out to pat him on the back or pull him in for a hug. Blue flinches every time it happens, more out of habit than anything else, because he of all people knows how hard it is for Red to deal with the sensory overload (how hard it’s always been, really).

It’s at that exact moment that Blue notices the long, yellow tail swishing along Red’s upper back – almost perfectly shaped like a lightning bolt – culminating in a small, furry rodent that balances expertly on his trainer’s shoulder.

Pikachu, of course.

If there’s anything about Red that’s even stranger than his natural ability to be effortlessly _good_ at everything, it’s the fact that he has in his possession what is probably the world’s strongest Pikachu. Even Eevee, who has been Blue’s friend and companion as long as Pikachu has been Red’s, falls short in terms of sheer battle prowess; about all their Pokémon have in common is the fact that neither one of them has chosen to evolve yet.

Watching him now, Blue can see the telltale signs of stress from a mile away – the twitch in Pikachu’s left ear, the puzzled expression on his round yellow face, the subtle crackle of electricity lighting up his bright red cheek pouches. Pikachu has always been attuned to his trainer – scarily so, in Blue’s opinion – so there’s a good chance both of them are feeling more than a little overwhelmed right now.

Thankfully Leaf knows this, too. From what Blue can see she’s quick to position herself between Red and the crowd, declaring something or other about needing to deliver the local legend to his mother’s doorstep. There’s some good-natured grumbling from within the circle of onlookers, but it isn’t long before everyone returns to whatever they were doing before, effectively defusing what could have been a very awkward situation (Blue knows from experience that an accidental electric discharge from Pikachu is nothing to sneeze at).

He’s starting to think that he might be in the clear now, too, until Leaf shatters Blue’s hopes in that annoyingly deliberate way of hers. “Hey, Blue! Stop being lazy and come help us with Red’s stuff!”

 _Ugh_.

Blue glowers at her from where he’s standing, grumpily recalling his Pokémon and whistling for Eevee to follow. She makes a big show of yawning and stretching beneath the shade of the pecha berry tree, taking her time, but Eevee does eventually trot after her trainer, even if her expression clearly says that she’d rather be sleeping.

All is forgiven when she recognizes Pikachu on Red’s shoulder, however; she trills excitedly at him and he races down the length of Red’s arm to meet her. They touch noses in greeting (Pikachu’s cheeks spark a little too much for Blue’s comfort), then proceed to chase each other through the tall summer grass, leading the way to where Red’s Charizard is curled up lazily on the side of the road, fanning herself with her gigantic, fire-tipped tail.

“Aren’t they cute?” Leaf squeals after them, arm-in-arm with Red, and Blue levels a disgruntled look at her before deadpanning, “Adorable. Is this everything?”

He gestures to the small heap near Charizard – an old beat-up backpack (possibly even the one Red had first set off on his journey with) and a duffel bag that, like most of Red’s possessions, looks like it’s definitely seen better days.

Red nods without looking at him and Blue huffs in annoyance, hoisting both bags up and over his shoulders. “Let’s get you to your mom,” he grumbles, stalking off in the direction of Red’s house.

Behind him he can hear Leaf speaking quietly, probably apologizing on his behalf. Blue has to remind himself firmly that he’s a grown-up and that grown-ups _do not_ absolutely lose it in the middle of the street.

Delia is already greeting Pikachu by the time they reach Red’s front porch, and when she looks up at the three of them, eyes wet, Blue feels absolutely terrible for being so moody about everything. He sighs, waving half-heartedly and mustering a smile for her. “Look who’s home.”

Delia dabs at her eyes with a handkerchief – the same one she’d used the day Red had disappeared – and crosses over to meet them, stopping in front of her son. She studies his face closely, then holds her arms out to him with a wordless smile. Blue knows that it’s not a real homecoming unless it’s Red returning to his mother of his own free will, and, as expected, it doesn’t take him long at all to accept her embrace.

They stay like that for some time – Blue can only imagine how much Delia misses Red when he’s gone, especially since there’s never a guarantee that he’s going to come back – until a familiar voice calls in their direction, “Is that you, Red?”

Daisy is already making her way into Delia’s front yard, Bill and Gramps in tow, and Red seems a little more at ease with this kind of reunion, a small group of people he’s known since he was a child. _Safe_ , Blue thinks, and not for the first time he wonders if it’s the fear of people, intrusive and opportunistic, that drove Red up the mountain all those years ago.

“Welcome home, Red!” Daisy says excitedly, giving him a brief, affectionate squeeze. Beside her Bill extends a handshake to the boy who, according to Daisy, once rescued her fiancé from “an invention of his own making” (Blue still isn’t sure if that was meant to be a metaphorical statement).

“Red, my boy!” Gramps exclaims next, clapping Red on the back with as much warmth as he’s ever been capable of (Blue pretends not to notice, of course, but it still stings, even after all these years). “How is your research going?”

Blue looks up at this. Gramps is beaming, while Red looks embarrassed.

“I didn’t know you were a researcher,” Blue says before he can stop himself. Red seems startled that Blue is actually speaking to him; his eyes meet Blue’s, and for a moment they just stare at each other until Blue realizes that Red is forming the words with his fingers.

“ _Just doing some exploring._ ”

Blue’s brain is a little slow in translating Red’s signs – he really is out of practice, isn’t he? – but he gets the gist of it eventually and responds with a raised eyebrow, equal parts curious and suspicious, “Find anything interesting?”

“ _Maybe,”_ Red’s hands say. There’s an adventurous glint in his eyes, the kind Blue used to see all the time when they were kids, turning over rocks in Viridian Forest in search of new species of bug Pokémon. It makes the breath catch in Blue’s chest.

“Do share your notes with me soon,” Gramps cuts in, oblivious as ever, and Red dutifully signs, _“Yes, sir”_ before Gramps wanders off to do whatever it is grandfathers in lab coats do.

“I thought I told you all _not_ to talk about work this week!” Daisy complains dramatically once her grandfather is out of earshot. “We’re supposed to be having fun!”

Red laughs at this – subtle little ripples that make his shoulders shake – and Blue can’t help but notice that he’s broader now than when they’d last met, toned biceps peeking through the sleeves of his simple white t-shirt. (Blue tries to convince himself that this absolutely does _not_ faze him.)

“Red has something for you,” Delia is saying all of a sudden, and it takes Blue a moment to realize that she’s translating for her son, who happens to be hovering expectantly somewhere to Blue’s left.

“Sorry!” Blue blurts out unceremoniously, a little too quickly, and Red eyes him strangely. Blue ignores it and shuffles Red’s bag off of his shoulder, handing it over with as much nonchalance as possible; somehow their fingers still end up brushing.

He pretends that he can’t feel Leaf’s gaze on him – really, she’s too nosy for her own good sometimes – and instead watches as Red busies himself with opening up the top flap of his duffel, searching around intently for something.

When Red straightens back up again he’s holding what seems to be a handmade bouquet of flowers. Blue doesn’t recognize any of the blooms – he guesses that they’re either out of region or out of season, maybe both – but even he has to admit that the arrangement is beautiful. It’s a perfect medley of color, pinks and yellows and oranges, with hints of violet peppered throughout. The stems are wrapped in a layer of protective foliage, which Blue immediately recognizes as Venusaur’s leaf trimmings.

“ _For you,_ ” he signs to Daisy, gently offering her the flowers. Daisy takes them with a watery smile and sighs, “Oh, Red. They’re beautiful.”

Red lowers his eyes self-consciously but seems silently pleased that he’s managed to make Daisy happy. (Blue tries very, _very_ hard not to admit that he might be falling for him all over again.)

“He says that he’s sorry for being late,” Delia continues as Red signs to her. “But he had to wait until Sinnoh’s blooms were at their peak.”

“I’ll put these in some water right away,” Daisy chirps brightly. She transfers the bouquet to Bill’s arms so that he can take a closer look, then calls over her shoulder to Blue, “Don’t forget! Erika’s holding on to the rest of the flower arrangements at her shop!”

“I’ve still got stuff to do here, you know!” Blue shouts after her, and Leaf pounces right away.

“Heeey, the flower shop is over in Celadon City, isn’t it?”

Blue eyes Leaf suspiciously, not liking where this is going. “I guess so. Why?”

Apparently he’s said the right (or wrong) thing because Leaf is smiling at him, all teeth. “Great! Take Red with you.”

Blue stares at her. “Why?”

“ _Because_ ,” Leaf enunciates, sugary sweet, “Red’s tux is still on reserve at the boutique there. He’ll need it for Saturday.”

_Ugh._

“Why can’t you go and get it?” Blue argues weakly.

Leaf looks at him like he’s stupid, which Blue probably is. “I have to help with the dinner prep, remember? Speaking of which…”

She turns cheerfully to Delia, who looks pleasantly confused by whatever is transpiring between them. “Mrs. A, can you help me go over the menu one more time?”

Delia smiles at her delightedly. “Of course! Red, will you be all right making another trip so soon?”

“Don’t worry about it!” Leaf interjects, waving her hand reassuringly. “Blue will take good care of him!”

Blue thinks that he should _really_ consider finding new friends; Leaf is officially demoted to ‘acquaintance’ from this moment on.

“Leave it to me,” he bites out in spite of himself, flashing Delia a weak thumbs-up, which she seems to accept easily enough. And just like that the women are gone, chattering brightly as they amble back up the lane towards the house, leaving Blue and Red to stand awkwardly near the white picket fence.

Finally, after several agonizing moments of not knowing what to say, Blue breaks the silence with a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair in annoyance. “Look, I got stuff to do. Are you coming or not?”

* * *

It’s much easier to ignore Red when they’re out on the road, miles from stuffy little Pallet Town and everyone who seems to think that Blue is Red’s best friend or something (he’s pretty sure he’s not).

Red isn’t exactly talkative – at least not when Blue can’t see whatever it is he’s trying to say with his hands – so the trip to Celadon passes by in relative silence, punctuated only by the sounds of Pikachu and Eevee playfully squabbling over a poképuff in the back seat (Blue makes a mental note to snag extras from Leaf’s stash when they get back home).

The sun is low in the sky by the time they reach the city, casting everything in that soft summer light, orangey-pink, including Red, who Blue realizes is waiting for him to say something. He puts the car into park abruptly, clearing his throat and trying _not_ to think about how stunning Red looks in the glow of sunset. “We’re here.”

Red nods, turning to let himself out of the car, and Blue stays behind an extra minute, just to clear his head. By the time he steps out Eevee and Pikachu are already running circles happily around each other and Red is watching them, expression so soft that Blue has to look away from him.

“Let’s make this quick,” he says curtly, dignifying Red with at least a cursory explanation, “We still need to stop off at Erika’s tonight.”

Red doesn’t say anything – of course he doesn’t – so Blue leads the way to the boutique he’d visited with Delia earlier that same week. The welcoming bell jingles and they’re greeted by a pretty saleswoman whose hair is pulled up into a bun, accompanied by a rather well-accessorized Jynx (Blue stifles a smile at how much make-up the Pokémon is wearing compared to its trainer).

“How may I help you gentlemen?” the woman asks cheerfully, looking expectantly between them.

“We’re here for a wedding,” Blue starts to say, then quickly blurts out, “Not _ours_ , obviously. Just. We have a suit reservation.”

“Of course,” the saleswoman chirps with a smile, thoroughly ignoring Blue’s blunder, and when she scurries behind the counter to look up their information, Blue shoots Red a murderous glare.

“Shut up,” he hisses at him. Red holds his hands up mildly but looks like he wants so badly to laugh.

“Would this be for the Oak wedding on June 21st?” the woman interrupts airily, and Blue narrows his eyes at Red before clearing his throat.

“That’s the one.”

“Excellent!”

After a few clacks of her keyboard the woman emerges from behind the counter, and she and her Jynx lead the way to the changing area located in the back of the store. They shuffle around a few racks of clothing and finally return holding up a freshly-pressed suit, navy blue, that seems to be about Red’s size. “Here you are!”

Red takes the garment hanger gingerly, as though he has no idea what to make of it, and turns uncertainly to Blue; Blue just rolls his eyes in response and instructs him with thinly-veiled exasperation, “You’re _supposed_ to go try it on now.”

Red looks completely out of his element, holding a fancy rental suit that probably costs more than everything in his closet combined. Eventually he realizes that this is a losing battle and gestures for Pikachu to follow him into a nearby changing room.

“Let us know if you need anything else!” the saleswoman singsongs, leaving Blue to sit on one of the plush chairs in the waiting area by himself – Eevee has already abandoned him in favor of playing with the ridiculously long train of one of the wedding gowns on display.

Several minutes pass, and Blue checks his PokéNav irritably to see the notification icon on the screen: 1 new message. He looks for the sender’s name, sees that it’s Lance of the Elite Four, and proceeds to promptly ignore it. He’s got enough on his mind as is.

Another few minutes crawl by, and then a second notification appears. Blue wonders if Lance is going to keep spamming him until he answers. He’s about to put the PokéNav away entirely when he notices that this message is actually from an unknown number. He clicks on it out of curiosity, stifling a laugh as his eyes scan the short but unmistakably terrified text:

 _Please help.  
_ _\- Red._

For a moment Blue sincerely considers leaving Red to his fate – seriously, _who_ still has trouble dressing themselves at his age?! – but then he remembers how much work he still has ahead of him tonight (and how disappointed Daisy, and Leaf, will be if he ditches Red in a fancy boutique in Celadon City).

So he sighs instead – loudly and dramatically enough for Red to hear him inside the changing room – and marches over to the closed door, calling to the other side, “What’s the emergency?”

There’s some shuffling inside the room, then a click, and Blue finds that he has to wedge himself through the gap in the door because there _really_ isn’t enough space in here for two grown men and an electric rodent.

The first thing he sees is Red, all decked out in a suit that looks annoyingly perfect on him. The deep navy color brings out the dark shimmer in his eyes, and Blue has to admit that the cut is very, _very_ flattering, stretching snugly over the curve of Red’s shoulders and tapering off _just_ right at the waist (the effect is lessened only when Blue notices that Red is still wearing his stupid hat).

The second thing he sees is the mess attached to the collar of Red’s cream-colored button-up shirt, peeking out from beneath his suit jacket. Blue can’t help it – he feels a strange mixture of fondness and exasperation well up inside of him, because of _course_ Red doesn’t know how to knot his own tie.

He raises his eyebrows at him in disbelief, and Red has the decency to at least look embarrassed about it, which Blue takes as permission to step in and do it the right way himself. He bats Red’s hands away and replaces them with his own, working to undo the tangle of silk cloth as deftly as he can.

Red’s eyes are on his face the whole time – Blue tries not to think about how uncomfortably close they’re standing – and he starts to sign something to him, but Blue just ignores him and shoots a look at the furry yellow Pokémon watching him curiously from Red’s shoulder. “Is he here for moral support or something?”

Pikachu squeaks indignantly at him – they’ve never exactly seen eye-to-eye – but Red just smiles and shrugs. He reaches around Blue as best he can and nudges the door open a bit so that Pikachu can run back out into the waiting area, presumably to find something fancy to wreck with Eevee’s help.

“Should’ve taught _him_ how to do this for you,” Blue grumbles now that he’s finally gotten the tie untangled. He loops it over Red’s neck, right beneath the rise of his shirt collar, and starts to adjust it as best he can, hoping Red doesn’t notice the imperceptible shake of his fingers. “Seriously, dude, how do you _not_ know how to do this by now? You’ve used escape ropes before, haven’t you?”

Red just shrugs, and Blue swats him on the shoulder – “Stop moving!” – before turning his concentration back to his work. He settles for a simple knot – partly because simple looks good on Red, mostly because it’ll keep him here the least amount of time – then proceeds to carry the steps out in silence, looping the cloth in on itself several times before sliding the loose knot he’s created up along Red’s neck.

Red stiffens a little at his touch, and Blue tries not to laugh, shooting a quick look up into his face. “You know, Red, if I’d wanted to strangle you, I would’ve done it already.”

Red doesn’t argue – not with his eyes or with his hands – so Blue just smirks at him and turns back to inspect his handiwork before proudly declaring, “There. You’re fit to enter society now.”

He pats Red on the shoulder – a little more awkwardly than he’d like – and Red gives him an appreciative smile before turning in place to study his own reflection in the mirror. He seems pleased by what he sees, and Blue thinks that this is probably a good time to make his exit, having accomplished what he came in here to do. Instead he looks up stupidly and ends up catching Red’s eye in the mirror.

They stare at each other – Blue’s not sure what’s keeping him from leaving right then – and Red hesitantly begins to lift his hands, signing slowly at Blue’s reflection, _“I missed you.”_

Blue sighs, feeling his resolve crumble, and before he can stop himself he’s taking a step towards Red’s back, forehead dropping to rest there, just beneath the nape of his neck. He runs his hands slowly up Red’s sides, right where the suit jacket tapers off at his waist, resisting the overwhelming urge to dig his fingers in – he feels the shuddering breath that Red takes, hears his own heartbeat thundering in his ears…

And then there’s a knock on the door.

They spring apart at almost exactly the same time, Red’s elbow colliding with Blue’s chin, Blue’s knee knocking against the small bench he hadn’t noticed in the room until now. He hisses under his breath, shoots Red a withering glare, then grits out through clenched teeth, “Yes?”

“How are you boys doing?” the saleswoman from earlier chirps, her voice significantly less cheery. Blue can tell from her tone that they’ve probably overstayed their welcome by now and wonders what mischief Eevee and Pikachu have managed to get themselves into.

“Fine,” Blue replies, a little too quickly. He clears his throat, scrubbing a hand over his flushed face, and tries again. “We’re fine, thanks. Just a little tie trouble.”

“Of course!” There’s an awkward silence, and then the saleswoman continues, a bit more tightly, “Well, let me know if you need anything!”

They wait until the clack of her heels disappears on the other side of the door, and then the two of them are dissolving into a heap of laughter, Blue covering his face with his hands, Red shaking against him silently. It feels good to laugh with him again – to do _anything_ with him again, really – and Blue reluctantly has to admit that, in his own way, he’s missed Red, too.

That being said…

He sobers a bit, more aware than ever that the fizzle of chemistry between them is something he _still_ has trouble resisting, and gently nudges Red away. “We’d better finish up here soon. Don’t wanna have to deal with the Celadon Jenny.”

Red nods quickly in response – Blue remembers something Red had told him a long time ago, about being escorted from the local Game Corner by the authorities for trying to play the slot machines without proper ID – and Blue watches with some surprise as Red reaches up to start unbuttoning his suit jacket.

“What are you doing?!” he squeaks, voice embarrassingly high. Red gives him a strange look and signs, _“Changing.”_

“I’m still here!” Blue splutters, scandalized. Red raises both eyebrows at him, considers it for a moment, and then proceeds to continue unbuttoning himself, the faintest trace of a smile on his lips.

“I hate you,” Blue announces, cheeks hot, and he hopes that Red doesn’t notice the last, lingering look he gives him before fleeing the dressing room, slamming the door shut behind him.

* * *

It’s dark by the time they finish their errands in Celadon City, and even though Blue still has plenty to deal with back home, he doesn’t argue when Red suggests that they stop for some ice cream.

There’s a little stand near the department store that’s all lit up in twinkle lights and manned by a happy barking Seel and its trainer. Red fishes some change out of his pocket and orders for them (well, he points out what they’d like from the menu and somehow manages to return with two cones and some frozen poffins).

Afterwards they walk to the fountain at the center of the city, trying not to get melted ice cream all over their fingers, while Eevee and Pikachu share a seat on the bench nearby, squeaking cheerfully over their treats.

“Well, they seem happy,” Blue comments, licking a stripe up the side of his ice cream scoop. Red doesn’t respond right away, focusing a little too intently on his own cone – vanilla, of course, and Blue rolls his eyes because he knows Red will never try another flavor for the rest of his life. Once he finds something he’s comfortable with, Red is the kind of person who will stick with it forever; whether out of loyalty or stubbornness, Blue can’t be sure.

He wonders if maybe that’s why Red is here with him now, even with all the years of bad blood and history between them: because he’d been Red’s first friend, _only_ friend, really, for a good part of their lives. It makes Blue a little uncomfortable to think that Red might feel duty-bound to him or something equally depressing. Red notices because he signs awkwardly with the hand that isn’t holding the ice cream cone, _“What?”_

“Nothing,” Blue lies. Red levels him with a look that tells him he _knows_ it isn’t ‘nothing’, so Blue tries again. “I don’t know, I was just thinking about stuff. You, me. Us, I guess. Why we still bother with each other.”

The expression on Red’s face is thoughtful, and Blue feels a twinge of guilt in his stomach when he predictably replies, “ _Because we’re friends._ ”

“Are we?” Blue asks, fidgeting a bit with his ice cream cone. He watches a melted drop of chocolate splash onto the pavement near his feet, then continues, “Because I gotta tell you, Red, we’re _really_ not good at this whole ‘buddy-buddy’ thing.”

Red _must_ know he’s telling the truth. They’ve run the gamut from being neighbors to rivals to whatever you call two people who accidentally end up falling into bed together after a stupid, messy argument. Leaf’s right; they’re hopeless.

Blue sighs, looking up just in time to see Red’s response. _“I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”_

“I know,” Blue tells him. He thinks he has some idea of what Red wants to discuss, but now that they’re both here, two grown men struggling with melting ice cream cones and their own feelings, Blue’s not so sure he wants to have this conversation after all.

_“About that night…”_

“We should get going,” Blue interrupts suddenly, and even he can’t miss the look of hurt that flashes across Red’s face. He tries to catch Blue’s eye, but when that proves futile, he nods sadly instead and discards the rest of his cone in a Gloom-shaped trash bin nearby.

Blue watches him turn away, presumably to gather up their Pokémon, who are probably better friends than they’ll ever be. Blue has enough decency to at least feel bad about it – Red is nothing if not honest, even when his silence comes off as unapproachable, so Blue already knows that he’s been forgiven for running away after they spent the night together in Unova.

 _(The problem, Blue thinks with no shortage of self-loathing, is that he’s not quite sure_ he’ll _ever be able to forgive himself for it.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fic fact: the dressing room scene is the first thing I imagined when I set out to start writing this story. Something about being in small, intimate spaces just screams 'drama' to me, haha.
> 
> Next chapter: miscommunications abound (and the mutual pining/angst continues). See you all soon!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is probably as angsty as it’s gonna get, so bear with me, lovelies!

_Clack._

“Five more minutes, Daisy,” Blue grumbles into his pillow.

_Clack, clack._

“Let me _sleep_ ,” Blue groans in aggravation, blindly reaching a hand out across his too-small bed. His fingers close around something soft and furry – not his pillow – and a moment later Eevee is yowling so dramatically that Blue falls right out of bed in alarm, landing in a heap on the carpeted floor.

He’s fully awake now, and apparently so is Eevee. Her eyes are narrowed into slits from where she’s watching him at the edge of the comforter, and Blue vividly recalls a nature documentary he’d seen once about how to escape the wrath of a feral Pokémon unharmed.

Thankfully they’re both distracted by the sound of something small and solid hitting the glass of his window from outside.

_Clack._

Blue shares a puzzled look with Eevee before scrambling back up onto the bed beside her. He grabs the bunched-up curtains and shoves them away from the window, just in time to watch a perfectly round pebble sail up from the ground and hit the glass pane in front of him with terrifying precision.

“What the hell?” Blue mumbles under his breath. It’s still dark out, with only the hint of a pale pink sky on the horizon, and his sleep-addled brain can’t quite figure out who would be throwing rocks at his window before the rest of the world is even awake yet.

The answer comes when Blue finally pokes his head out, gel-dried spikes sticking out in every direction around his face, and sees Red standing right beneath him.

“What are you doing?!” Blue hisses into the night air, equal parts surprised and annoyed. After the way things had gone in Celadon City last night – with Blue’s outright refusal to discuss anything of significance with him – he’d (naively) assumed that Red would do the customary thing and just ignore him until someone (Leaf, probably) forced them into interacting with each other again.

Red shrugs up at him with a self-conscious smile, dropping the pebble he’d been about to throw and dusting his hands off on his jeans before signing something at Blue from where he’s standing, still several feet below the windowsill.

“You know I can’t understand you from up here, right?” Blue informs him, rolling his eyes, and Red looks a little embarrassed. “Look, I’ll be right down, okay? Ugh.”

Blue drops away from the window and bounces gracelessly off of his bed, narrowly avoiding pinching Eevee’s tail. He shoots her an apologetic smile (she really is as ornery as a Snorlax at four o’clock in the morning) and sets about the task of finding decent clothes for himself. Bill was kind enough to help with the laundry earlier in the week, so it doesn’t take Blue too long to find something he looks good in – a simple button-up shirt and a pair of green capris that Leaf had insisted on buying for him the last time they'd taken a shopping trip together.

It occurs to Blue that it doesn’t really matter what he’s wearing – it’s only _Red_ , after all – but he still puts a bit of extra effort into taming his hair anyway, just in case anyone recognizes him out in public or something (the fact that most people are probably still sleeping right now is neither here nor there). When he finally emerges from the bathroom in the hallway – as quietly as he can, so as to not disturb Daisy or Gramps – Blue is starting to feel a little more human. He pads back towards his bedroom, poking his head into the doorway with what he hopes is a convincing smile, and gestures for Eevee to join him.

She seems less than enthusiastic at the prospect of leaving her warm blanket cocoon, kneading the comforter wistfully before finally dragging her feet out the door and climbing up onto Blue’s shoulder at the first available opportunity. Eevee still isn’t happy about this, Blue can tell, but it doesn’t take her long to relax a little when he rubs the spot between her ears that always makes her tail thump happily.

“Sorry, girl,” he murmurs quietly to her as they make their way down the stairs (Blue deliberately avoids the second-to-last step, the one that has always betrayed him with its constant squeaking). “Looks like your Uncle Red wants a word with us.”

Eevee’s ears perk a bit at this, and Blue resists a smile as he lets them out into the warm summer air, clicking the door closed carefully behind him. He skips quickly down the front steps, catches himself halfway, and then transitions smoothly into a cool, confident stride, turning the corner around the fence and finding that Red is still standing there, right where he’d left him.

Blue watches him for several moments, studying Red’s silhouette in the low light of a nearby street lamp. He’s taller than Blue remembers him being, less boyish now, too, but there’s something about him that hasn’t changed in all the years Blue has known him – the set of his shoulders, maybe, or the way Red shuffles habitually when he thinks no one is looking. Blue’s fairly certain he would recognize him even in the dark.

As it stands, Red is looking uncharacteristically nervous right now, hands shoved deep into his pockets – _fidgeting with something? –_ while his eyes continue scanning Blue’s bedroom window expectantly. Blue considers letting him suffer for a little while longer, but the curiosity of knowing why Red is even here right now wins out in the end.

“Yo,” Blue calls over to him, startling Red into spinning around to face him.

They don’t say anything at first – Blue struggles to come up with something witty at this hour – but Eevee takes advantage of the awkward silence to sail happily from Blue’s shoulder to Red’s, landing with a thump onto the strap of his backpack. Red, who has always been more at ease with Pokémon than with people, greets her with a smile and a soft head bump, which Eevee is only too thrilled to return.

_(Blue secretly thinks he might die of the cuteness.)_

“If you’re done flirting with my Pokémon,” he jokes with a raised eyebrow, earning him an undignified mewl from Eevee, “Maybe you could tell me what you’re doing at my house at the crack of dawn?”

Red smiles at him sheepishly, almost as if realizing for the first time just how late (or is that early?) it actually is. He recovers quickly, though, and begins to sign a response with such enthusiasm that Blue legitimately has trouble keeping up with whatever it is Red wants to tell him.

 _“The Butterfree migration season starts today,”_ Red is saying, fingers stumbling together a little in his excitement. _“I thought we could go to Viridian Forest and see them before the crowds show up. The first day is supposed to be the most exciting.”_

Blue blinks at him, not entirely sure what any of this has to do with them. “Did you just wake me up at four in the morning to go and watch Butterfree mate in the forest?”

Red gives Blue a look, making a quiet little huffing noise in his throat before he continues signing insistently. _“This only happens once a year. It’s_ special _.”_

 _Wow_ , is all Blue can think to himself, silently noting that Red can be as much of a nerd about Pokémon as his own grandfather is – who else would consider an observation of Butterfree’s courtship rituals to be worth losing sleep on a Friday morning?

Still, there’s something about the way Red is looking at him, dark eyes bright and hopeful, like nothing would mean more to him than sharing this with Blue. Blue sighs, wondering with some annoyance if Red realizes just how much power he has over him, and tosses his head irritably.

“All right, all right,” he finally agrees, trying hard not to smile at the look of relief that lights up Red’s expression. “But you owe me and Eevee a coffee.”

* * *

Dawn is just beginning to break by the time they reach Viridian Forest. The attendant at the front gate cheerfully hands them their visitors’ passes, along with a small bundle of pamphlets and a commemorative calendar printed by the Bug-Type Association of Kanto (Blue didn’t even know there _was_ a bug-type association here in Kanto).

“It’s best to stay off the main path a bit,” the girl at the desk goes on to explain excitedly. “The Butterfree are eager to find partners, but they’re a little shy, too. Oh, and please don’t forget to keep the flash off on your cameras! There should be plenty of natural light in another hour or so!”

Blue still can’t believe he’s getting roped into watching bug Pokémon swarm around the forest in search of a mate. He wants to say something snarky, really, but when he looks off and to the side he sees that Red is already absorbed in reading one of the pamphlets; “Starting Your Own Butterfree Garden” is printed on the cover in big yellow font.

“How popular exactly is this ‘event’?” Blue asks the attendant, hoping to distract himself from how stupidly adorable Red looks right now.

“Oh, it’s one of our busiest days!” she informs him proudly; judging from the stack of pamphlets still left on the counter, Blue certainly hopes for her sake that business picks up once people are actually awake. “It’s especially popular with couples! What could be more romantic than watching Butterfree pair up together with the person you love?”

Blue clears his throat loudly enough to wake the dead.

“Hey, Red, you, uh, ready to get going already?”

Red looks up from his pamphlet, startled, and Blue practically flies past him on his way to the double doors leading out into the forest. Red flashes the attendant an apologetic smile on his behalf and then hurries to catch up with Blue, balancing Eevee’s sleeping body on his shoulders as he goes along.

It isn’t until they’ve reached the first fork in the path, out of viewing distance of the visitor center, that Blue finally slows his pace to something resembling walking speed. “All right,” he says at last, hoping that Red won’t ask what that was all about. “Let’s go find your horny bugs.”

Red elbows him sharply in the side and Blue yelps in response, shooting his friend – _maybe_? – an affronted look. “What was that for?!”

Red busies himself with adjusting the straps of his bag, making sure not to knock Eevee off of her perch in the process, then answers Blue with a mild smile. _“You heard the lady at the gate,”_ his hands say matter-of-factly. _“It’s_ supposed _to be romantic.”_

Blue rolls his eyes, cheeks growing warm, and grumbles almost under his breath, “I never figured _you_ for the type.”

They walk along the path for a bit longer, following it as it winds around into a grass-filled clearing, and pause to search the treetops for signs of Butterfree. Red unfolds one of the pamphlets, turning it around so that he can inspect the map printed on the other side and silently plotting out the best path for them to take. Blue wonders why Red doesn’t just use a navigation app or something.

 _“What did you mean by that?”_ Red asks, almost out of nowhere, once he’s finished folding up his map and tucking it into the side flap of his backpack.

Blue blinks at him and shrugs. “I don’t know,” he replies evasively, falling into step beside Red. “You just never seemed to care about any of that stuff. You know, finding that one special person – erm – _Butterfree_ or whatever.” Blue pauses, wondering what the human equivalent of that would be. “Like Daisy and Bill.”

Red doesn’t say anything, but he does touch Blue’s forearm, feather-light, steering him slightly off the path and through a natural trail formed in between the trunks of two large, flower-dotted trees. The grass is taller here, brushing Blue’s bare calves with its dewy blades, and Blue opens his mouth to ask if Red actually knows where they’re going when he finally sees it.

There, in the middle of a sunlit clearing formed by a ring of trees, is a gathering of Butterfree, flapping their patterned wings and flitting around one another in what Blue figures must be some sort of courtship dance. Their happy little chirps fill the clear morning air, forming a sweet, melodious song that Blue can’t help but smile at.

“Red, look, they’re –”

Before he can register what’s happening, Blue is flung unceremoniously into the grass, face-first. He sputters a little, about to give Red a piece of his mind, when a lone Butterfree sails directly over his head, right where he and Red had been standing not a moment prior.

 _“Sorry,”_ Red signs to him from where he’s managed to camouflage himself in the tall grass. _“Better to stay low.”_

Blue narrows his eyes at him but chooses not to say anything, rolling onto his stomach instead so that he’s lying beside Red (Eevee, still miraculously asleep in spite of the commotion, is snoring softly in a little patch of sunlight beside them). They stay there for a while, shoulder-to-shoulder, watching the swarm of Butterfree from their relatively well-hidden location until Blue sees something interesting.

“What’s going on over there?” he asks almost in a whisper, gesturing to a pair of Butterfree that are circling one another in the near distance. The air around them is filled with pastel sparkles, plumes of powder drifting from their wings as they flap and flutter in a perfect circle.

 _“They’re showing off for each other,”_ Red signs, resting his elbows in the dirt so that Blue can see his hands more clearly.

Blue studies the two dancing Pokémon, then turns back to Red. “The pattern on their wings is exactly the same. Does that mean they’re both – ?”

 _“Male? It’s pretty common in Pokémon,”_ Red tells him matter-of-factly, glancing sideways at Blue with a vague smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. _“They don’t mate_ just _for reproduction, you know.”_

“I knew that,” Blue huffs in embarrassment, wondering how Red can discuss anyone’s love life – including a bug Pokémon’s – and still manage to keep a straight face.

“ _Look over there,_ ” Red says a moment later, nodding to a spot not far from the pair they’d just observed. A peculiar-looking Butterfree is flitting through the air there, waving its pink-tinged wings about as it searches the swarm with large, hopeful green eyes.

 _“It’s a mutation,”_ Red’s hands explain, _‘shiny’_ something or other, but Blue isn’t paying much attention because he’s too busy watching as all the other Butterfree ignore the poor little Pokémon’s advances.

“Why are they doing that?” Blue asks, feeling unreasonably sad for a situation that, for all intents and purposes, is playing out exactly the way nature had intended.

 _“Courtship is complicated,”_ Red tells him with a sympathetic smile.

“There’s nothing wrong with him,” Blue argues, knowing that Red agrees but feeling the need to get it out into the open anyway. “Just because he’s different doesn’t mean he’s not worth their time.”

Red doesn’t say anything, but he does bump Blue’s shoulder softly with his own, an unreadable glimmer in his dark eyes. Together they watch as the spurned Butterfree tries again, and again, and again, fluttering away sadly each time another of its kind turns its back away in disgust.

“You can do it, little guy,” Blue murmurs under his breath, shoulders tense, a warm prickle starting in his eyes every time he blinks. He almost can’t believe how invested he is in this particular Butterfree’s journey, but really, doesn’t everyone secretly hope for a happy ending at the end of the day?

It isn’t until the little Pokémon has run itself ragged, wings drooping in defeat – Blue swallows past the lump in his throat – that another Butterfree emerges from the swarm, flying a bit less extravagantly than all the others. There’s a long, jagged nick in one of her wings, and even though it appears to have healed over, like a scar, her gait isn’t quite as refined as the rest of her Butterfree brethren.

Blue watches, holding his breath, as the female Butterfree hesitantly begins her courtship dance. It’s a slow process, clumsy and tentative, but it doesn’t take long before the green-eyed Butterfree is chirping at her in delight, rising to meet her in the air. They dance around each other, not a perfect waltz by any means, but one that resonates with happiness and acceptance, and it ends with a dazzling display of blue and pink sparkles shining brilliantly in the light of the sun.

Blue’s not sure he’s ever seen anything more beautiful. He turns immediately to Red, scrubbing the wetness from his eyes, only to find that Red is already looking at him, quiet and contemplative.

“That was… wow,” Blue tells him, voice still thick with emotion. He clears his throat, a little embarrassed to have been caught getting weepy over Pokémon, but Red doesn’t call him out on it. Instead he looks back out to where the Butterfree are happily flitting, a strange smile ghosting across his lips.

 _“I’m glad you’re here,”_ he begins signing slowly, still not looking at Blue. _“It’s so hard to talk to you sometimes. I thought maybe… if we were just… away from everything…”_

His fingers are fumbling as he trails off, trepidation clear in his every movement, and Blue is suddenly on high alert, focusing on Red’s hands without even realizing that he’s holding his breath now. This moment _feels_ important – Blue’s not quite sure how to explain it - and even though he’s evaded every one of Red’s attempts to talk thus far, Blue doesn’t dare interrupt him now, not when Red is putting this much effort into trying to articulate something.

Blue watches as Red’s tongue darts out, wetting his lips nervously – it’s an unconscious motion, but one that Blue has to deliberately ignore anyway – and then his hands are picking up right where they left off, forming the words a bit more fluidly now, something about ‘Blue’ and ‘Unova’ and…

Blue’s concentration shatters when his PokéNav begins to buzz insistently in his pocket, once, twice, three times. He doesn’t even realize that he’s whipping it out in irritation until he hears himself angrily hissing, _“What?”_

The Butterfree scatter instantly at the sound of his voice, their happy little ritual disturbed by the unexpected intrusion of a human presence. They flit off into the trees, concealing themselves from prying eyes, and the small crowd of people that had wandered into the clearing to watch them grumbles in annoyance at Blue, shooting him disapproving looks.

Blue feels like an absolute idiot for having been so careless – even Red is glaring at him from where he’s still lying in the grass, an unmistakable flush on his face (it’s hard to tell whether he’s embarrassed or frustrated right now – maybe both).

Blue shrugs apologetically, doing his best to avoid Red’s eyes, and clears his throat as he turns his attention back to his device. “Sorry,” he tries again, hoping the person on the other line isn’t his poor stressed-out sister.

“You’d better be!” comes the positively murderous response.

_Crap._

“Leaf,” Blue starts to say cautiously, fully accepting that he’s about to have his head bitten off right through his PokéNav. Never one to disappoint, Leaf snaps at him fast enough to give him whiplash.

“Where are you?!”

Blue takes in his surroundings, wondering how to even begin explaining what he’s doing in Viridian Forest at six o’clock in the morning. “Uh, just out,” he tells her evasively, adding purely out of guilt, “With Red. Why?”

There’s silence on the other end of the line, and the urgency seeps out of Leaf’s voice briefly as she considers what it is he’s saying. “Red, huh?” she repeats with some interest.

“Is there a reason you’re bugging me this early?” Blue cuts her off, mirroring her annoyance from earlier. Leaf grows serious again, lowering her voice as though she doesn’t want anyone overhearing this particular conversation.

“Daisy called,” is all she says.

Blue sits up quickly enough to startle Eevee, who is still attempting to make up for lost sleep on her little patch of grass.

“What happened?” he asks, knowing full well that Daisy would never contact Leaf instead of him in an emergency (unless, of course, she was trying to hide something specifically from Blue).

“You need to get back to Pallet, _now_ ,” Leaf tells him gravely, and as Red sits up beside Blue to listen in on their conversation, she says exactly what Blue was hoping she wouldn’t: “The wedding’s off.”

* * *

“What does she mean, the wedding’s off?!” Blue hisses as discreetly as he can possibly manage, given the urgency of the situation.

It’s nine in the morning now, and he and Leaf are standing in the doorway of her kitchen, conversing in hushed voices while occasionally peering out into the living room, where Daisy is seated despondently on the couch. She’s twisting a handkerchief nervously between her fingers, clearly distraught, while Leaf’s mom and Red, of all people, take turns trying to comfort her.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Leaf hisses back, narrowing her eyes at Blue. They’re glaring at each other, but Blue knows it’s only because they’re both so frustrated by this turn of events; he and Leaf have been more invested in preparing for Daisy’s upcoming wedding than pretty much anyone else. Apparently the one thing they’d failed to do was make a contingency plan for this (very unfortunate) possibility.

“Look, just…” Blue trails off, running a hand anxiously through his hair. “Start at the beginning.”

Leaf launches into a brief retelling of what Daisy had shared with her just a few short hours ago: how she and Bill had been having more frequent disagreements as of late (mostly wedding-related, Blue figures), how much stress Daisy was under hosting all six of Bill’s relatives (Blue, who shared a car ride with them for one whole afternoon, can definitely concur), how Bill seemed less and less inclined to want to discuss their future together, even in private (here Leaf pauses to give Blue a look that says, “ _She wants kids right away; he doesn’t”)_.

“Yesterday was the last straw,” Leaf finishes with a shake of her head, expression grim. “Daisy says they went to bed angry after fighting about where to honeymoon. When she woke up this morning, he was already gone.”

Blue feels something like shame twist in his stomach, keenly aware of the irony of someone doing to his sister what he’d done to Red after their last meeting. Leaf must read the discomfort on Blue’s face because there’s a wry smile playing around her lips a moment later. “At least _he_ had the decency to leave her a note,” she tells him meaningfully.

“Can we focus here?” Blue snaps, not in the mood at all to have Leaf guilt-trip him at a time like this.

Thankfully even Leaf has her limits; she fixes him with an annoyed look, but mercifully drops the subject in favor of discussing more important things. “Daisy didn’t want you or Delia to know,” she admits at last, confirming what Blue had already figured out all on his own. “I think she was worried about disappointing you both.”

Blue wonders if it’s even _possible_ for Daisy to ever disappoint him – his big sister is practically a saint, as far as he’s concerned – but he does understand where she’s coming from, the agony of having to admit that you’ve given up on something important. “Thanks,” he says quietly, and when Leaf meets his eyes, Blue smiles half-heartedly at her. “For telling me anyway.”

Leaf laughs at this – though it’s tinged with guilt – and it takes her only a moment to verbalize what they’re both thinking, “So I guess it’s up to us now to fix this.” As insane as it sounds (because Blue has accepted that he’s far better at creating interpersonal problems than he is at solving them), he has to agree.

“Don’t tell me,” Blue sighs, already dreading what he knows Leaf is implying, “You want me to go talk to Bill.”

“I can stay here with Daisy,” Leaf offers quickly, as though that would somehow make the prospect of having a heart-to-heart with Bill easier to stomach. “We’ll make it a girls’ afternoon or something. Get her mind off of everything for a little while.”

Blue resists the urge to say something snarky (“Oh, sure, _you_ get to sit around and complain about men while I do all the heavy lifting”), peering out into the living room instead to survey the damage.

Daisy is so uncharacteristically distressed that it’s honestly a little concerning. Her eyes are puffy and red-rimmed, lashes lined with unshed tears, and there’s something about the way she wrings the handkerchief in her lap, like she’s completely out of her depth and searching desperately for something to help anchor her to reality.

Blue absolutely can’t stand to see her like that.

“Let’s get this over with,” he says under his breath, sharing a determined look with Leaf before ducking out of the kitchen doorway and into the main living area.

Daisy doesn’t look up at his entrance, but Red, who is seated beside her awkwardly, certainly does. He shoots Blue a panicked look, like he’s been flying by the seat of his pants this whole time, and Blue is reminded that Red is an only child and never did learn how to properly comfort a distraught sibling, much less his heartbroken 30-year-old neighbor.

Blue smiles at him, just a little, grateful that Red had at least attempted to stay close to Daisy in his stead. Then he turns to Leaf’s mom, who is quietly asking Daisy if she’s ready for a cup of tea yet.

“Thanks for having us,” he tells her politely, hoping he isn’t interrupting anything important, “But me and Red have some, uh, errands to run. Leaf said it would be okay for Daisy to stay here with you in the meantime?”

“Of course!” Leaf’s mom assures him with a warm smile, lowering her voice a little to tell Blue with some secrecy, “Between you and me, I’ve seen my fair share of broken hearts around here over the years.”

 _“Mom!”_ Leaf shouts from the kitchen, voice steeped in embarrassment.

Blue rolls his eyes at Leaf’s outburst, fully intending to ask about that at some point in the future, then moves to sit briefly beside Daisy on the couch once Red has vacated the spot. “Hey, sis,” he says gently, not quite knowing how to approach the subject. “I have to go and take care of some things now, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Daisy finally looks up at this, irises swimming with fresh tears. “You’re not going to see Bill, are you?” she asks, voice positively miserable. “Please don’t do that. He needs space right now, and… I don’t know, maybe we were moving too fast…”

“Daisy,” Blue interrupts, firm but compassionate. “None of this is your fault, okay? Sometimes people just… freak out when it comes to commitment. When you love someone that much, it can be really, _really_ scary, you know?”

Daisy nods, sniffling quietly into her handkerchief, and Blue deliberately avoids the looks that he can feel both Leaf and Red shooting at him.

“Anyway,” he continues, clearing his throat, “It can’t hurt to have a little chat with my future bro-in-law, right?”

“I suppose not,” Daisy says softly after some contemplation. She reaches out at last, taking her brother’s hand into her own, and Blue smiles and returns the gesture with an affectionate squeeze. “Just promise you won’t say anything you’ll regret, okay?”

“I’ll try not to,” Blue reassures her, making sure to add in playfully, “Besides, Red’ll be with me. If things get dicey, I’ll just have him do all the talking.”

Daisy laughs at this, and even though it sounds a little watery, it’s enough to ease some of Blue’s concern. He gives her hand one last squeeze, just to make sure that she’s really okay, then rises from the couch to head towards the door, where Red is already waiting for him with a funny expression on his face.

Blue ignores him masterfully, and it isn’t until they’re finally back outside, just the two of them, that Red stops him with a hand on his forearm, signing curiously, _“Why exactly am I going with you?”_

Blue shrugs. “Moral support,” he says after a moment, gesturing to the pokéball resting on his belt clip, close to his side. “Eevee’s still exhausted from this morning and I could use some backup.”

 _“Not sure I’m the right person for the job,”_ Red insists, clearly trying to get out of this arrangement, and Blue somehow manages _not_ to roll his eyes at him, wondering if Red is actually _that_ determined to avoid being stuck with him for a few more hours. (If Blue’s being honest, that’s usually _his_  modus operandi.)

“Look,” he snaps, feeling the weight of the situation on his shoulders, clear as day. “Daisy needs me right now, and I need…”

Blue trails off, feeling absolutely ridiculous for heaping his problems on to Red (and for almost admitting that Red’s support actually means something to him). He opens his mouth to tell him that he doesn’t have to go along if he doesn’t want to, that he’s a grown man, perfectly capable of making his own decisions, and that their lives don’t _constantly_ have to revolve around each other.

Red stops him with the kind of smile that makes Blue’s stomach twist, lifting his hands slowly between them (Blue wonders stupidly if Red is going to touch him, but he’s actually just signing instead).

 _“I’m sorry,”_ Red tells him at last, looking genuinely apologetic for not having understood why Blue wanted him to come along. Blue feels some of the tension drain from his shoulders at that, though his conscience is still nagging at him, reminding him how unfair it is to rope Red into his family’s personal drama without first considering how he might’ve felt about it.

“I just need a friend right now,” he tries to explain, not-quite meeting Red’s eyes, and this time Red _does_ reach out for him, running his knuckles reassuringly down the length of Blue’s arm. (It takes all of Blue’s willpower – and then some - not to grab Red’s hand when he lets it fall back down to his side).

 _“Okay,”_ is all Red says; _“Thanks”,_ Blue doesn’t say, but he’s pretty sure Red hears him anyway.

* * *

“She hates me, doesn’t she?”

Bill is hunched over his coffee mug, seated at the small, rickety table that separates his kitchen from the rest of the laboratory and looking more frazzled than Blue has probably ever seen him before. His tie is undone, white button-up shirt only half-tucked into his pants, and if Blue didn’t know any better, he might assume that Bill’s gotten absolutely no sleep in the last 24 hours (scratch that, Blue thinks – he probably _hasn’t)_.

Still, it’s a little hard to drum up sympathy for him when Blue knows that Daisy is crying her heart out two towns over, absolutely convinced that she’d done something to scare away the love of her life (Blue may be biased, but he thinks it may have been more of a miscommunication between them than any kind of wrongdoing on his sister’s part).

“She doesn’t hate you,” Blue says at last, when Bill’s sad, guilty eyes bore into his face for a little too long. “Even though she probably _should_ ,” he makes sure to add, ruthlessly honest, and Red’s sneaker shoots out from where he’s sitting on the kitchen tile to shove gently at Blue’s ankle.

Blue tries to scowl at him, but the sight of Red, stretched out on the floor with Bill’s Nidorino sprawled out across his lap and Pikachu chittering jealously from his shoulder, drags an exasperated smile out of him instead.

“I didn’t mean for any of this,” Bill continues miserably. Blue looks back up at him to see that he’s running both hands anxiously through his messy brown hair. “We just couldn’t stop fighting about everything, and I thought…”

“You thought she’d be better off without you?” Blue finishes for him, ignoring the way Red’s head tips up imperceptibly out of the corner of his eye.

Bill nods, and Blue isn’t sure what’s more frustrating: the fact that this could’ve been resolved if Bill had just _talked_ to his sister, or the fact that Blue understands from firsthand experience why he _didn’t_.

“I get it,” Blue says, choosing his words as carefully as he can manage. “You felt like you were bringing out the worst in her, right? Like you couldn’t agree on anything and it was your own damn fault for being so stubborn all the time.”

Bill stares at him, mouth hanging slightly agape, and Blue just shrugs, silently hoping that Red isn’t reading into any of this. “Let me ask you something,” he continues after a moment of thought. “What made you fall in love with my sister?”

It’s an awkward question to throw at him, Blue knows, but the answer is pivotal, because depending on what Bill says, Blue may or may not consider this entire intervention a lost cause. Daisy deserves someone who loves her for all the right reasons, after all.

Bill doesn’t say anything just yet, which is to be expected (Blue would’ve been more concerned if he’d gone ahead and blurted out the first thing to come to mind). When he does finally speak, his voice is soft and faraway, as though it comes as a revelation even to him.

“I love her because she’s the kindest person I know,” he says, smiling wistfully at his own reflection in his mug of now-cold coffee. “She cares about everyone… people, Pokémon… with all of her heart, no questions asked. She’s funny and brave and beautiful…”

Bill trails off, shaking his head, and when he looks up again there’s something in his expression that makes Blue wonder why he’d ever doubted Bill’s feelings for Daisy in the first place. “She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I don’t deserve her.”

“You’re right,” Blue tells him, straightforward as ever. “And that’s why you need to go talk to her. Now. Because for whatever reason, Daisy feels the same way about you.”

Bill blinks at this, eyes misting over a little, and Blue rises from his seat at the table, crossing over to give his future brother-in-law a firm but reassuring clap on the shoulder. “So you messed up. It happens to the best of us.”

He fixes Bill with a pleasant smile, fingers tightening just a fraction around his clavicle, and he can tell from the fleeting panic on Bill’s face that Red must be smiling at him, too, silent and menacing on the kitchen floor behind them.

“Don’t do it again,” is all Blue says, and just like that the tension has passed and everything is back to normal. Blue turns away casually to refill his coffee mug, Red goes back to bouncing Nidorino on his lap like a spiky purple toddler, and Bill looks vaguely like he’s seen a ghost.

“Thanks for the advice,” he stammers after some time has passed, thunderstruck. Blue watches him scurry out of the room as soon as the opportunity arises, presumably to give Daisy a call, with no shortage of amusement.

 _“I think you scared him straight,”_ Red signs from his spot on the floor, making a grabbing motion towards Blue’s coffee cup. Blue sticks his tongue out at him, takes a long, languid drink – just to be extra annoying – and eventually surrenders the mug to Red, who doesn’t even bother to wipe it off first, covering the spot where Blue’s mouth had been with his own.

“Well, _someone_ had to talk some sense into the guy,” Blue shrugs, dropping down to sit beside Red. He extends a hand to Nidorino, running his fingers lightly over the barbs on the Pokémon’s back, and continues with no amount of exaggeration, “Leaving Daisy would’ve been the biggest mistake of his life.”

Red nods gravely in agreement, taking one last sip of Blue’s coffee before setting the mug off to the side. Pikachu squeaks curiously at this, scampering down Red’s back to inspect the sweet-smelling liquid filling the cup, and it isn’t long before Nidorino follows him, nudging his way over to see if he can fit his snout in for a taste. Red watches them, smiling in that way that he always seems to reserve just for Pokémon, while Blue tries valiantly not to stare.

 _“Did you mean all of that?”_ Red signs eventually, when the two of them have gravitated naturally towards each other, shoulders touching. Blue isn’t quite sure what Red is asking, and a part of him wishes that they didn’t have to talk about anything at all right now, because their conversations never seem to end well these days.

“What?” Blue finally asks, watching the afternoon sunshine dance into the kitchen from the open blinds lining the corner window. He can hear Bill’s voice drifting in from the next room, muffled and low, and even though they’re hardly alone here, with Pikachu and Nidorino tossing a ratty old pokédoll back and forth in the doorway, Blue doesn’t resist when Red leans into him, tentatively, small invisible sparks flying from every point of contact.

 _“What you said to Bill,”_ Red’s hands clarify. It’s a bit awkward to understand his signing given how close they’re sitting, but Blue manages anyway; he’s always prided himself on being able to read Red when no one else could, and technically this isn’t even the closest they’ve ever been.

 _(Blue_ does not _think about the time Red’s fingers pressed into his arching back, signing words that Blue would never be able to read directly onto his skin, hidden messages in the dark.)_

“Well, yeah,” Blue says, when he can trust his voice again and his mind is no longer swimming with images that are way too dangerous to unpack right now.

 _“Is that why you left that night?”_ Red asks with absolutely no warning, blindsiding Blue. To make matters worse, he doesn’t even have the decency to stop there. _“Did you really think I’d be better off without you?”_

Blue sincerely wishes that Red would just leave well enough alone sometimes.

"Drop it, Red."

A pause, and in spite of the warning tone in Blue's voice, Red pushes on ahead anyway, headstrong and a little desperate.  _"I want to know."_

His words are a flickering flame, fanning just a little too far out, a little too fast, and Blue feels like he can't breathe all of a sudden, keenly aware of the fact that there's no saving them from this now; they're both going to get burned.

“I left because it shouldn’t have happened!” he snaps, terrified, and Red flinches like he’s been hit, drawing away from him so quickly that Blue has no time to reach out for him. It isn’t until Red is on his feet again, turning towards the back door of the cottage, that Blue finally scrambles after him, grabbing him roughly by the arm.

“I guess you’re the one running now, huh?” he spits out, years of pent-up frustration rushing to the surface before he can stem the flow. “You’ve always been so _good_ at that, haven’t you, Red?”

Red’s arm trembles under Blue’s grip, but Blue doesn’t even care that maybe he’s gone too far – _as usual –_ because Red has no right to keep bringing up the past over and over again, cornering Blue into admitting things he’s not ready to even face right now.

Blue waits, holds his breath, counts the seconds as they tick by, but Red doesn’t respond at all to his outburst, facing the door with the brim of his hat pulled down low over his eyes. Somehow _this_ silence – the kind where Red is deliberately holding back, hiding his face and his hands from Blue – cuts deeper than all the terrible things Red _could_ be throwing back at him right at this very moment.

“Say something!” Blue finally pleads, heart hammering wildly. There’s something pulsing right in the center of his chest, heavy and raw, and Blue just wants it to _go away_ already so that he can feel whole again, and not like a part of him has been forcibly ripped away, hidden somewhere he can’t ever seem to reach.

He tries again, fingers digging into Red’s wrist, and it’s this particular touch, sharp and insistent, that finally gets a reaction. Red whirls around to face him, twisting his arm free of Blue’s grasp, and the expression on his face is completely unreadable, startling Blue into taking a step back.

 _“I don’t believe you,”_ Red is signing, visibly struggling to keep his hands steady. Blue’s brain isn’t fast enough to keep up with him, not when the adrenaline is pulsing through him in waves, and Red must be able to tell because he says it again, more insistently. _“I don’t believe you, Blue. That night meant something.”_

“You’re wrong,” Blue argues, hating the way his voice shakes. “We were both angry and we did something stupid. I never should’ve – ”

Whatever else Blue starts to say disappears somewhere in the space between them, smothered out of existence when Red grabs him suddenly by the shoulders, fingers trembling, and covers Blue’s mouth with his own.

Blue’s first reaction – beyond being absolutely stunned speechless – is to push Red away. Nothing about this situation feels right – they’re both angry, _again_ , and Red seems to be trying to prove something to him, something that Blue doesn’t have the energy to deal with right now – but Blue has always been so weak for this – for _Red_ – and his body knows it more than his brain could ever hope to admit.

He reaches for Red, for the soft white cotton of his t-shirt, fisting his hands into the material and shoving at him furiously – no, wait, he’s actually dragging him closer – and Red stumbles a step forward, right into Blue, trapping him against the sharp edge of Bill’s kitchen table.

Some part of Blue’s mind is screaming at him to stop – what the _hell_ are they even doing, this is a very, _very_ bad place to even _think_ about doing anything like this, and is that _Pikachu_ squeaking somewhere in the background? – but Red must not be thinking very clearly, either, because his hands are moving wildly, rising from Blue’s shoulders to his face, sinking into the hair at the base of his neck before dropping even lower than before, signing small, desperate words into the dip of Blue’s stomach, voiceless.

It’s too much, too much – _not enough_ – and Blue’s lungs burn, the taste and smell and feel of Red – _Red, Red, always Red –_ filling him up until he thinks he might burst, years of missing him and wanting _this_ crashing down on him all at once, a flood set on fire.

_He can’t do this._

Blue breaks away from Red with a sound that couldn’t possibly be his own – his voice is absolutely shattered, somewhere between a gasp and a sob – and Red chases him, frantic, pressing small, shaky kisses to the corner of Blue’s mouth, trying to tell him something that Blue just isn’t willing to hear.

“I can’t,” is all Blue manages to say, and the look that Red gives him, like he doesn’t understand why Blue keeps pushing him away, like he’ll never, _ever_ get over this, is terrifying and heartbreaking all at once.

_“Please don’t go.”_

What else can Blue do?

 _He runs_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there you have it, folks: Red is in love and Blue is afraid to be happy. ~~And you know Bill saw aaaaall of that and will promptly be telling Daisy! Someone should tell Blue that starting fights with Red is a bad idea…~~ There’s a lot to unpack from here on out, but I assure you that there will be sunnier days ahead for our boys (eventually). Thanks so much reading, and I’ll see you all soon!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovelies! Please accept this (slightly longer than average) chapter as an apology for my unplanned absence! Real life has been kicking my behind over the last few months, but know that this fic is my baby and that I have no plans to abandon it any time soon. Enjoy (and don’t hesitate to let me know what you think about the POV shift - it was heavily inspired by all of YOUR wonderful comments and theories)!

_Today is a special day, Red thinks, nerves buzzing with excitement as he studies his reflection in his bedroom mirror. He’s wearing a sharp blue suit this morning, the same one he’d tucked away into the back of his closet on the day they’d said goodbye to Dad, and it occurs to him that it doesn’t quite fit anymore (Mom_ had _mentioned something about a ‘growth spurt’ at the beginning of the year, but Red hadn’t actually expected to grow a whole two inches by his birthday)._

_Still, Leaf had made a big deal about the three of them dressing up today, and what could be fancier than this? He tugs at his clip-on tie, readjusting it a bit, then bounces over to his bed, crawling across the pile of stuffed pokédolls that he was supposed to have picked up yesterday (oops). He stops when he reaches the window and peers curiously through the fluttering curtains, looking out across the way to where he knows his best friend’s bedroom is._

_Blue doesn’t seem to be there right now, he notes with some disappointment, which means one of two things: either he’s still having breakfast with his Gramps and Daisy, or Red is already late._

_Punctuality has never really been Red’s strong suit – he’s only 9, after all – but if he doesn’t meet his friends on time today, Leaf might end up getting really, really mad (and no one wants_ that _). Red shudders a little at the thought and rolls promptly off of his bed, making sure to grab his cap on his way to the door (Mom did tell him once that a gentleman never wears a hat with their suit, but maybe Leaf will let him get away with it today if he asks really nicely)._

_Then he’s off, taking the stairs two at a time and hardly noticing that the pictures on the wall clatter in his wake; he’s already out of breath by the time he finally reaches the landing. His mother must’ve heard the commotion from downstairs because she comes in from the kitchen a moment later, wiping her hands off onto the front of her apron._

_“Red?” she asks in concern, then breaks out into a smile when she sees him waving sheepishly from the bottom of the stairs. “Goodness!” she exclaims, studying him with her hands on her hips. “Don’t you look handsome today!”_

_Red shuffles his shoes a little in embarrassment, too old now to accept a compliment from his mother graciously, but he does smile back at her, scrubbing the back of his hand across his nose._

_“What’s the occasion?” Mom continues, reaching out to help him straighten his tie._

_Red clears his throat a little, still not entirely used to how scratchy it feels after more than a year of disuse, and a flicker of concern rushes across his mother’s face, mingled with something that looks like anticipation. She’s hoping that maybe today will be the day he speaks again – of course she is. Mom has been waiting for him so patiently all this time, and Red can’t help but feel awful because he’s been trying really,_ really _hard to get the words out for her – his body just can’t seem to remember_ how.

_Mom must notice that something’s wrong because she drops down to Red’s level, running a gentle hand across his face until he meets her eyes hesitantly. “It’s okay,” she says softly, blinking away the sadness. “You can tell me in your own way.”_

_Red lets out the breath he hadn’t meant to hold and nods wordlessly, brow furrowing a little as he wonders how best to phrase this. He hasn’t been studying sign language for very long, but he_ has _always been a fast learner, even if he does still fall back on his own made-up gestures when things get too frustrating._

“Getting married,” _he tells her at last, hoping that she’ll understand so he won’t have to repeat himself – it’s a little embarrassing to talk to your mom about something like this, after all._

_Mom’s eyes go wide for a moment, and then she covers her mouth with the hand that isn’t resting on Red’s shoulder, doing her best to hide her smile. “Oh, my,” she laughs between her fingers, though not unkindly. “Congratulations, Red.”_

_Red shuffles a bit again, feeling the color rise up into his face. When he doesn’t elaborate any further, Mom gives him a compassionate smile and squeezes his shoulder gently. “You don’t have to say anything else if you don’t want to,” she reassures him, though it’s obvious from her expression that she would love to hear more. “But would it be okay if I guessed?”_

_Red considers his mother’s terms carefully, then responds with a quick nod;_ telling _her outright would definitely be embarrassing, but he doesn’t think it would be_ too _bad if she figured it out on her own. Mom smiles at him in delight, rocking back onto her slippers thoughtfully as she places a finger on her chin._

_“Let’s see,” she hums, holding out the suspense theatrically. “Is it… Leaf?”_

_Red wrinkles his nose right away, shaking his head so hard that it makes his ears burn. Leaf is pretty, he thinks, and she smells better than he does on most days, but he can’t even begin to imagine being married to someone as loud and bossy as she is (even if they_ are _just playing pretend)._

_“No? Okay, then. Is it…” Mom trails off again, for dramatic emphasis, then leans forward to tickle him unexpectedly under the chin. “Daisy?”_

_Red giggles – the sound gets stuck somewhere in his throat, almost like a hiccup – but Mom blessedly doesn’t say anything about it, watching him with expectant eyes instead._ “Not Daisy,” _Red signs back to her, even though Blue’s big sister is one of the nicest people he’s ever met and gives the best hugs._ “Too old.”

_His mother laughs at this, clear as a bell, and Red breathes a silent sigh of relief at how much happier she’s been looking lately; for a little while, he’d been afraid that Mom had forgotten how to smile just as much as he’d forgotten how to speak._

_“So not Leaf, not Daisy…”_

_Mom looks thoughtful for a long while, and then, very slowly, Red watches as her expression changes, something like confusion clouding her eyes for the briefest moment. He feels uneasy all of a sudden, like maybe he shouldn’t have told her anything after all, and Red’s heart thuds hard against his ribs when she finally looks at him and guesses softly, “Is it Blue?”_

_Lying is unfortunately out of the question – Red can’t remember a single time in his entire life when he’d been able to successfully lie to his mother (she says that she’s got a sixth sense and eyes on the back of her head, but he’s pretty sure that she must’ve learned Psychic from an Alakazam without telling him). In lieu of outright denial, Red chooses to pull his hat down over his face instead, hiding himself underneath as best he can._

_“Oh, Red,” Mom sighs, in that tone that she only ever uses to let him know that he’s not in trouble. “I think that’s wonderful.”_

_Red peeks up at her from beneath the brim of his cap, still a little uneasy, and Mom smiles at him reassuringly, tapping at her chin with her index finger again. “You know,” she starts to say, eyes twinkling, “I think I have just the thing for you.”_

_Red watches as she rises back up to her feet, tossing her braid over her shoulder, and hurries off into the kitchen, returning some moments later with what appears to be a clipped flower bud in her hand. She stops to rummage through her sewing kit on the coffee table, finds whatever it is she’s looking for (Red can’t quite tell from here), and finally comes back around to kneel in front of him._

_“This is called a boutonniere,” Mom tells him as she lines the flower bud up with the pocket of his suit jacket. She holds it in place with her index finger and thumb, threading the pin securely through it, and continues with a smile, “Your dad wore one the day we got married, too.”_

_Red doesn’t reply just yet – they don’t talk much about Dad anymore, and he doesn’t want to risk making his mother sad again – but thankfully she seems to be in good spirits today because Mom is still smiling when she sits back on her heels a bit to inspect her work._

_“Perfect,” she says at last, looking rather pleased with herself. “Now you’re ready for your big day.”_

_Red signs his gratitude, nervous energy returning in full force, and Mom gives the brim of his hat an affectionate tilt before sighing with some amusement, “All right, all right, you’re free to go.”_

_Red shoots off towards the door – Mom manages to catch him for a quick peck on the cheek before he gets too far – and her laughter follows him all the way to the spot in the forest where he promised to meet Blue and Leaf, footsteps lighter than they’ve been in a long, long time._

* * *

_“You’re late,” Leaf huffs in annoyance when the three of them have finally gathered underneath the shade of their favorite pecha berry tree. She’s standing with her hands on her hips, long brown hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, and even though she’s wearing the sparkliest dress Red has ever seen her in, there’s a spot of smudged dirt on her cheek that makes Leaf look a little more like her usual, familiar self._

“Sorry,” _Red signs clumsily, still a little winded from his recent sprint. He offers her a small, sheepish smile – hopefully Leaf will see that he hadn’t meant to make them wait on purpose – but before he can apologize any further Blue is already beside him, rolling his eyes in the way that he always does when he’s trying to look bored (or really, really cool, Red secretly thinks)._

_“Can we get this over with?” he cuts in, sounding very much annoyed by everything, and Red tries hard not to look disappointed. Does Blue_ not _want to marry him today after all?_

_“You_ always _get to decide what we play,” Leaf complains defensively, lower lip trembling. She’s pouting and her eyes are narrowed, but there are no tears yet so Red figures that she’s trying to do the thing that Blue calls “guilt-tripping” (it certainly seems to work on Red – he’d do anything to keep Leaf from crying)._

_“That’s because_ my _games are the best,” Blue argues matter-of-factly, shifting a look in Red’s direction before continuing, “Besides, this game doesn’t even make sense. Shouldn’t_ you _be the one marrying him?”_

_Sometimes Red wishes his friends_ wouldn’t _talk about him like he isn’t standing right in front of them._

_“I can’t marry him,” Leaf shoots back like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’ve known Red longer and Mom says that you can’t marry someone if you don’t know them inside out.”_

_“I guess that makes sense,” Blue mutters under his breath, looking a little uncomfortable. Red bites back the smile he can already feel coming and nudges Blue in the arm instead, secretly pleased with the way his friend meets his eyes and seems to almost-smile, too._

_“Good!” Leaf chirps, clapping her hands together triumphantly and eagerly squeezing between the two boys to position them correctly. She grabs at Red first, twisting him by the shoulders until he’s standing sideways, then proceeds to maneuver Blue into a mirror image of Red, so that they’re facing each other with only a narrow sliver of space between them._

_“You look so nice, Red,” Leaf comments as she finishes adjusting her living dolls, giving him her brightest smile before souring visibly at the sight of Blue’s wrinkled school uniform. “I_ told _you to wear something fancy today, y’know.”_

_“This is nice, too!” Blue argues, clearly offended, and Red stifles a giggle as Leaf rolls her eyes at him, jabbing a finger at the front of Blue’s jacket._

_“There’s still ketchup there from lunch,” she tells him smugly, sticking her tongue out at him, and Blue shoots back, “Yeah, well, there’s dirt on your face!”_

_“Shut up,” Leaf glowers, cheeks pink. Red wants to tell her that she’s still the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, even if she_ does _forget to wash her face sometimes, but Leaf doesn’t look like she’s in the mood to read his sign language right now so he settles for a sympathetic smile in her direction instead._

_“I’ll shut up if you hurry up,” Blue neeners, smirking. Leaf throws her arms up with an over-enunciated “ugh!” and stomps off towards the base of the berry tree, where her messenger bag is nestled among the tangle of a few twisted roots. Red watches curiously as she rummages inside, emerging some moments later with a book that he recognizes right away._

_“Hey, isn’t that the type matchups guide?” Blue pipes up before Red has the chance to wonder the exact same thing. He seems much more interested in whatever Leaf is doing all of a sudden, and even Red has to silently agree that Pokémon make_ everything _more exciting._

_“We’re not playing Pokémon Masters again,” Leaf scowls at them, much to Blue’s immediate disappointment. “You’re_ suppose’ta _hold a book when you’re marrying people. Duh.”_

_Blue deflates a little at Leaf’s explanation, clearly not accustomed to having to play by somebody else’s rules, and Red wishes that he could convince his friend to give this game a chance, even if it doesn’t have Pokémon in it for once (it has nothing to do with the fact that Red has been daydreaming about it since Leaf brought up the whole “why don’t you marry Blue?” thing at school last week - obviously)._

_Red watches as Leaf finally takes her place in front of them, opening up the book and clearing her throat as she begins reading off of a piece of lined paper shoved in between the pages. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she says seriously; Blue snorts and mumbles under his breath, “There’s no one else here.”_

“Ladies and gentlemen,” _Leaf repeats, eyes boring into Blue’s face as she enunciates each word with increasing volume. Blue shuts his mouth wisely, raising his eyebrows at Red instead and mouthing,_ “Wow, okay” _; Red bites back another giggle and smiles back at him wordlessly._

_“We’re gathered here today to witness the mari- matri- matri-omny…” Leaf trails off, brows furrowing in confusion as she tries to make sense of the words she’d clearly copied down from some secondary source (probably from one of her mom’s romance novels, Red thinks, since Leaf definitely isn’t old enough to have books about weddings anywhere in her collection)._

_“Just say ‘marriage’,” Blue interrupts with a roll of his eyes. Leaf scowls at him but eventually gives in, pointedly_ not _looking at the taller boy as she continues, “Fine, fine, the_ marriage _of this man and this woman.”_

_She blinks, trailing off again, and Red feels his face grow warm as Blue stifles a laugh, whispering under his breath, “So which one of us’s the woman, huh?”_

_Red doesn’t know how to answer that question – he suspects that it’s probably him, since he_ is _the one wearing a flower on his suit jacket, but thankfully neither of his friends seem to come to the same conclusion. Instead Leaf huffs in annoyance, tossing the book over her shoulder so that it lands facedown in the grass._

_“This isn’t working,” she announces matter-of-factly. Red wonders with a sinking feeling if this means that the wedding is off – well, the_ pretend _wedding, anyway – hoping silently that his expression isn’t giving away his disappointment. Blue, on the other hand, doesn’t seem too bothered either way – he never was one to take things seriously unless Pokémon were involved – but Leaf is as stubborn as she is bossy and Red has never known her to back down from a challenge._

_“Ladies and gentlemen,” she continues after a beat – Blue groans at this, while Red toes at the dirt with his sneaker and tries not to look too relieved. “We’re here because my best friends are getting married!”_

_Red isn’t sure why, but something about the way Leaf says it makes him wish that they weren’t just playing pretend. He glances up at Blue from under the brim of his hat, half-expecting the other boy to be staring off boredly into the distance, but to his surprise Blue’s eyes are fixed on the boutonniere fastened to Red’s suit jacket, an unmistakable tinge of pink dusting the freckles on his nose._

_“I’ve known Red a long time,” Leaf goes on when she’s certain that Blue isn’t about to rudely interrupt her again. “He doesn’t say much, but he’s brave and funny and he always lets me have the last cookie whenever I sleep over. I want him to be happy.”_

_Red meets Leaf’s eyes at this; they stare at each other for a moment, and when Leaf smiles at him Red feels a surge of something warm and happy bloom in his chest. She can be_ so _nice when she’s not busy stomping her feet and throwing tantrums (though, in her defense, dealing with the two of them on a daily basis must be exhausting)._

_“Then there’s Blue,” Leaf continues, and Red watches as Blue shifts his weight uncomfortably from one leg to the other, probably bracing himself for whatever snarky thing Leaf has in store for him._

_“Blue can be a real pain,” she says at last; Red politely pretends not to notice Blue’s squeak of indignation. “He’s loud and rude and likes to interrupt me when I’m talking…”_

_Blue quiets down abruptly when he realizes that he is, in fact, guilty of doing exactly that. Leaf seems pleased by the reaction and flashes him a smug smile before continuing, “But he holds my hand when I’m scared, and Daisy says he’d do anything for Red.”_

_Red feels strangely like he’s floating, as though Leaf has just shared a very important, very personal, secret with him. He glances up at Blue shyly from beneath the brim of his hat again, but Blue is stubbornly refusing to meet his eyes, face still dusted pink from cheek to cheek._

_“So that’s why I think they should get married today,” Leaf concludes matter-of-factly. Red has to admit that she has_ definitely _made a compelling argument._

_“Is that it?” Blue asks after several moments. He’s still shifting uncomfortably in place, and Red wonders if he’s embarrassed or – more alarmingly – if Leaf’s speech has upset him in some way. He considers asking Blue about it, but Leaf pipes up before Red has the chance to even attempt to sign anything._

_“Nope. Now you guys gotta kiss.”_

_Oh._

Oh.

_In his excitement to prepare for his pretend-wedding today, Red had completely forgotten about this very obvious, very pivotal, tradition. He looks up suddenly in alarm, eyes wide, and finds that Blue is staring back at him with an almost identical expression, brows hidden somewhere beneath the spiky shock of his auburn hair._

_“You didn’t say anything about kissing before,” Blue blurts out, taking a step back away from Red; Red tries valiantly not to feel offended by how quick Blue is to put distance between them._

_“Well, I’m saying it now,” Leaf decrees, hands on her hips and a defiant glint in her eye. This_ is _her game, after all, and Red knows that even Blue isn’t stupid enough to fight her on it, not when the three of them are almost always defaulting to whatever it is that Blue wants to do._

_“But that’s…” Blue trails off, at a loss for words – Red’s not sure he’s_ ever _seen him speechless before – and it isn’t until he finally mumbles, “Okay, fine” that Red realizes he’s been holding his breath the whole time. He looks to Blue nervously, wondering if he actually means it, but Blue is already starting to lean into his space, face scrunched up with how tightly his eyes are shut._

_Red isn’t sure what to do – Leaf is no help here, really, teetering on her tiptoes as she watches them excitedly – so instead he closes his eyes, too, hands balled into determined fists at his sides. He’s not about to mess this up now, not when they’ve already come this far, so Red braces himself for whatever a first kiss is supposed to feel like, heartbeat thudding in his ears as he tilts his head up bravely to meet Blue._

_What Red_ expects _to feel is a feather-light touch somewhere on his face, across his lips, maybe, or at least on his cheek. What Red gets instead is Blue veering off at the very last minute, reaching up abruptly to yank down the brim of his cap and shoving hard enough into his shoulder that Red stumbles back, defenseless. He loses his footing entirely, hitting the ground with a gasp of surprise, and Red’s eyes fly open just in time to see Blue sprinting past them, calling, “Smell ya!” over his shoulder._

“Blue!” _Leaf shouts furiously, stomping her feet loudly on the forest floor before she begins to give chase. “You never play fair!!!”_

_Red watches after them for a long moment, a strange combination of shame and relief swirling around in his chest briefly before sinking directly into the pit of his stomach. He scrubs the back of his jacket sleeve across his face, ignoring the hot prickle of tears blurring his vision, and slowly begins to pick himself back up off the ground, dusting old dead leaves and bits of mud off of himself as he does so._

_Mom won’t be happy about him dirtying up his best suit, but maybe she’ll forgive him if he tells her it was an accident – he_ is _pretty clumsy sometimes, after all. The only thing Red can think of doing right now is catching up to his friends; he can still hear them shouting and laughing in the distance, chasing each other through the tangle of trees and scattering Pidgey in their wake._

_Red wishes he could call out to them, let the late summer air carry his voice to wherever they are, but he knows that it’s impossible now and the thought of being left behind is almost too much for him to bear. He takes a moment to collect himself, stopping to adjust his cap and grabbing Leaf’s bag from the base of the berry tree before breaking into a sprint, following the sound of laughter all the way back to Pallet Town._

_Unbeknownst to Red, his purple boutonniere lies in the dirt, forgotten._

* * *

_“Have you ever been in love, Pikachu?”_

It’s silly to expect an answer and Red knows it, but somehow getting that cosmic question out into the open seems like the right thing to do, even if the only person around to see him ask it is actually a Pokémon.

Large brown eyes stare back at him, a tiny nose twitching in concern, and Red smiles fondly at his lifelong partner, overwhelmingly grateful for the comfort that his presence always brings.

They’re sitting at the edge of a small pond somewhere between Viridian and Pallet, tucked away behind rows of manmade fences and a thicket of bushes so dense that Red can barely see through to the other side. It’s a quiet spot, one he’d found years and years ago, when Red had still been very small and the world had still seemed impossibly big. He thinks he may have caught a Rattata here once – or maybe it had been a Pidgey – but it’s difficult to remember now, the memories of his Pokémon journey woven together into a tapestry that Red wouldn’t be able to unravel even if he tried.

He carries it with him wherever he goes, the weight of all the things he’s seen and all the things he’s experienced _(ghosts in Lavender Tower, spinning tiles that made him sick for days, battles that felt like they’d never end, pushing him to limits he didn’t even know he had, Charmander’s limp body in his arms, a tail flame almost extinguished, rock and asphalt and grass and snow)_. Red often wonders if these things have actually become a part of him, helping him grow into the person he is today, or if he’s really just hiding somewhere underneath it all, waiting for someone to peel back the layers and find the real him - not a hero, not a Champion, but a boy who only ever loved Pokémon with all of his heart.

It’s times like these, when Red isn’t quite sure who he is anymore or where his life is headed, that he finds himself secretly wishing he’d never come down off the mountain.

Impenetrable. Inhospitable. _Unforgiving_.

When people think of Mt. Silver, they only ever see what the mountain _wants_ them to see: frozen, jagged rock giving way to slick, icy inclines, heavy clouds of swirling white concealing the hiding places of Kanto’s fiercest, most territorial Pokémon – and, at the end of the journey, emptiness in all directions, stretching out into infinity.

What people _don’t_ know about Mt. Silver is that it’s actually the safest place on earth.

Red thinks of the first time he rose above it all, beyond the cold and the snow and the rapidly thinning air, to a point so far up above the rest of the world that he could pretend, just for a moment, that nothing could ever hurt him again. The clarity that came with reaching the mountain’s summit, the sheer awe that had struck him once the wind stopped roaring in his ears and the tundra before him began to give way to the lush greenery of the land below, is what Red will always remember when he thinks of Mt. Silver.

Quiet. Serene. _Home._

Once upon a time Red had built a life for himself there, a simple but fulfilling existence comprised of nothing but the clothes on his back, the friends at his side, and whatever the mountain deemed him worthy of receiving. Sheer necessity had forced him to learn skills he’d never quite mastered before, to take risks he’d never dreamt of ever taking before, to trust in himself at a point in his life when he knew only the paralyzing fear of not being able to live up to his own legacy.

He’d grown strong again, over time – in battle, yes, but also in his understanding of the world and his place in it – and the thought of ever returning to the surface, with all of the pressures and expectations that came with life down at sea level, was enough to wake Red up in the middle of the night drenched in a cold sweat.

It was on his 13th birthday, 2 years after he’d first made the decision to leave everything he’d ever known behind, that Red found himself climbing to the summit of the mountain once again, watching the snow rise and dance in the frigid night air. Below him was all of Kanto; above him, only sky.

_Freedom._

He’d stay there forever, Red decided that night, while the rest of the world slept in blissful ignorance. Even if it meant never seeing his mother again. Even if it meant never seeing Leaf again.

_Even if it meant never seeing Blue again._

Red sighs, fingers searching through the tall grass for the smoothest, roundest pebble he can find. He picks it up, tosses it absently into the air, and then sends it skipping out across the surface of the water, leaving small, persistent ripples in its wake.

He’s not sure what to make of Blue anymore, or how to even interpret his own feelings, for that matter. Red thinks that it had all been so much simpler when they were kids, even in the face of Blue’s fierce competitiveness and casual cruelty. Back then Blue was always within arm’s reach, always so close that Red could find little ways to connect with him: searching for his hand in the darkness of their pillow fort, pressing his sweaty forehead into Blue’s shoulder after a hard run through the tall grass, returning home after a sleepover with the shirt he’d snuck out of Blue’s drawer, hiding it under his pillow like a hard-won treasure.

What he wouldn’t give to spend just a few minutes near Blue now, _without_ having him run away.

Almost in spite of himself, Red wonders if this is what being in love is supposed to feel like. He’s not stupid, of course; he’s read books and watched movies and has observed Pokémon (and humans) in the wild. He knows, theoretically, that love is as much a physical reaction as it is an emotional one, sometimes built upon years of mutual trust, oftentimes appearing out of absolutely no where, unexpected and all-encompassing.

The problem, Red thinks, is that Blue makes him feel things that go frighteningly beyond what he thinks love is supposed to be.

Blue is a wave, all energy and magnetism, crashing along Red’s shores until the pull becomes strong enough to consume him, dragging him down into the swirling depths where the light no longer shines through. He’s fire, too, the heat that sears Red whenever Blue touches him, branding him so deeply that Red knows, in his heart of hearts, that he’ll never be able to erase the scars that are left behind ( _and Red, Red would never want to)._ Blue electrifies him, lights him up from the inside until Red is certain that one day he’ll fizzle out, like the broken neon letters that spell out ‘Saffron City’ in the dark –

Blue hurts him, over and over again, and Red always, _always_ lets him.

_“I don’t know what to do,”_ he tells Pikachu at last, in their own special language, the one that’s made up of signs and gestures and the occasional hum rumbling softly in Red’s throat, in the spaces where his voice can no longer reach.

Pikachu hops across the grass to where Red is sitting cross-legged, placing a soft, furry paw on his knee. He tilts his head, studying his trainer’s face in a way that’s surprisingly intuitive, then nuzzles in under Red’s arm, sniffing at the front flap of the bag Red has carried with him since he was a fledgling trainer.

Red follows his lead and begins to unzip the pocket that his Pokémon is fixated on, pushing aside a few pamphlets and field notes to uncover the object of Pikachu’s curiosity. There, nestled at the very bottom of the cloth compartment, is a smooth round stone, no bigger than a medallion, attached to a black leather cord just wide enough to fit around Red’s neck. The stone itself is an amber hue, with swirls of blue and red – _the irony does not escape him –_ intertwined in the very center.

Red reaches in to take the makeshift pendant from his bag, holding it up to the light of the afternoon sun. He watches as the golden rays pass right through it, illuminating its tri-colored surface, then lowers it carefully so that it’s hovering just above the water at very edge of the pond. The stone reacts, just like Red knew it would, pulsing steadily to the rhythm of the ripples beneath it, a faint blue glow humming from somewhere within.

_“This is for Blue,”_ Red says as Pikachu stares at the gleaming pendant with wide brown eyes, transfixed. _“When Lapras brought this back to me from that lake in Hoenn… I knew it was meant to be his.”_

He pauses, then closes his palm around the smooth surface of the stone, letting it pulse in his hand, like a heartbeat. _“It feels just like him.”_

Pikachu rises up onto his hind legs, nudging at Red’s hand with his small twitchy nose, and Red responds with a faint smile, just bordering on wistful. _“I wanted to give this to him earlier,”_ he confides in his partner, looking out across the surface of the water, as though the answer to all of his worries lies on the other side. _“This morning, outside his house, then again in the forest…”_

Red tries not to think about what happened after all of that, the argument they’d had in Bill’s kitchen – _even_ _when things had been going so well between them_ – and his desperate, last-ditch effort to convey his feelings to Blue. He’s not sure where he went wrong – maybe he shouldn’t have kissed him, but Blue was hovering dangerously in his space and neither one of them had particularly stellar self-control, and maybe he should’ve just walked away, like he’d meant to at the very beginning, but…

Red drops the pendant back into the front flap of his bag, zipping it closed securely and wondering where to go from here. Thankfully he doesn’t have to think on it for too long, because not even a minute passes before his Pokégear rumbles distractingly from its spot on his belt clip.

He’s pretty sure he has some idea of who it is, but Red detaches the device from its holder anyway and lifts it up to eye-level, navigating to the texting screen (his Pokégear may be incredibly outdated by now, housing only a handful of apps, but at least he can still use it to communicate with the five or so people who actually know his number). There, on the display in front of him, is the notification he’d expected to find in small, bold letters: **New message from Leaf**.

_(16:03)  
_ _hey red. where r u?_

Red takes in the simplicity of Leaf's texting voice, eyes scanning the single line repeatedly, and wonders how best to respond. He could rip the bandage off right away and just tell her that he and Blue are possibly, probably no longer on speaking terms again ( _what’s new?)_ , or he could stall for a bit of time and see whether or not she’s already aware of the situation ( _definitely a possibility)_.

He settles for a neutral in-between.

(16:05)  
Hey. Just outside of Pallet. Got back from the cottage a little while ago.

_(16:06)  
_ _i heard. daisy & bill made up over the phone. thought u were w/ blue?_

(16:07)  
We came back separately.

_(16:07)  
_ _uh oh. what happened???_

Pikachu scampers up onto Red’s shoulder, peering curiously at the object of his trainer’s anxiety, and Red turns his head to nuzzle briefly against the furry little Pokémon’s cheek, paying no mind to the small bit of static that sparks across the side of his face. The sensation is strangely comforting.

_(16:09)  
_ _red what happened???_

(16:10)  
We had another fight.

_(16:10)  
_ _ugh, AGAIN??? what did he do this time?_

Red feels something in his stomach twist guiltily, wishing that Leaf wouldn’t automatically assign the blame to Blue – he’s pretty sure that this particular situation was definitely more of a miscommunication on his own part.

(16:11)  
It was my fault. I think I read him wrong.

_(16:12)  
_ _read him wrong how exactly?_

_(16:13)  
_ _red_

(16:15)  
I may or may not have kissed him.

Red holds his breath, steeling himself for the onslaught he knows is coming. As usual, Leaf doesn’t disappoint.

_(16:15)  
_ _omg_

_(16:15)  
_ _r u serious red_

_(16:15)  
_ _how_

_(16:16)  
_ _how did this happen???_

Red wishes he had a better explanation than, “ _He was freaking out and insisting that we shouldn’t have slept together and for some stupid reason I thought kissing him would be an appropriate response.”_

Unfortunately, nothing he can think of quite covers it.

(16:18)  
I don’t know.

_(16:18)  
_ _u dont KNOW? red how. u were THERE. like physically there._

(16:19)  
He was yelling at me.

_(16:19)  
_ _so u KISSED him???_

(16:20)  
I thought maybe I could make him understand. How I felt.

_(16:20)  
_ _oh red._

Red stares nervously at his Pokégear, more than a little disturbed by the sympathetic tone in Leaf’s last message. The longer the conversation goes on, the more convinced he is that he’s doomed to keep making one fatal error in judgment after another.

(16:21)  
Leaf?

_(16:22)  
_ _have u guys talked yet? abt everything?_

(16:23)  
Every time I try he runs away. I don’t know what to do.

_(16:23)  
_ _im sorry._

_(16:24)  
_ _hey red. ur mom wants u to come home._

_Wait, what?_

Red squashes down the surge of panic rising up in his throat, deliberating over whether or not Leaf is actually capable of getting his mother involved in all of this. On the one hand, it’s almost impossible to determine what parameters Leaf has set for herself in terms of interpersonal boundaries. On the other hand, it’s _Leaf_.

(16:25)  
Leaf.

_(16:25)  
_ _i didnt say anything i swear. she just wants u to get ready for daisys dinner. thats still happening, or did u forget?_

In the rush of the day – and everything that had come with it – Red had, in fact, forgotten all about Daisy and Bill’s rehearsal dinner later that evening. He really should’ve put two and two together earlier (with the wedding back on, there would be no reason to cancel tonight’s event), but Red figures he’s allowed a little wiggle room given how much has happened since he’d touched down in Pallet Town.

(16:26)  
Sorry. I’m on my way.

(16:26)  
Is Blue back yet?

_(16:27)  
_ _dunno. im at ur place rn._

_(16:27)  
_ _want me to look out the window???_

(16:27)  
No, it’s fine. I’ll be there soon.

_(16:28)  
_ _love u champ._

(16:28)  
Thanks, Leaf. Me too.

* * *

The scent of homemade cooking permeates the air, warm and familiar, greeting Red even before he’s moved fully through the threshold of his front door. He can hear voices drifting in from the kitchen, his mother’s laughter and Leaf chattering in that unmistakably bubbly way of hers, underscored by the occasional scrape of a pan and the clatter of pots being dropped off into the sink. Clefy sings a cheerful tune from somewhere nearby, mimicking one of those catchy radio songs that Leaf is always listening to, and Red stops for a moment, right where he’s standing, just to take it all in.

He’s missed this, he thinks, this town, these people, these walls. All that’s left is…

“Red, is that you?”

Pikachu answers before Red has the opportunity to make his presence known, running down the length of his arm expertly and bounding directly into the kitchen with a happy squeak (where a saucer of fresh pecha berry juice is no doubt waiting for him). Red smiles after him and shakes his head fondly, following his small, excitable companion into the central hub of his childhood home.

Mom is standing at the sink, just as Red had suspected, dress sleeves pulled up to her elbows as she busies herself with scrubbing down some used pots in the soapy water. She looks up as soon as she hears his footsteps, strands of brown hair coming free from her braid and framing her face in the process, and Red feels a familiar surge of warmth in his chest at the sight of her.

What would he ever do without his mom?

“ _Hi_ ,” he signs in greeting, a small smile ghosting across his lips, and Mom stops what she’s doing to smile back at him, the faintest flicker of concern crossing her eyes before disappearing, replaced instead by her usual cheerful expression.

“Hello, dear,” she replies neutrally; Red can tell right away that she’s hiding something, and it’s this revelation that makes him turn in place, eyebrows raised as he searches for a familiar shock of long brown hair. He finds what he’s looking for behind the open refrigerator door, Leaf’s head just barely visible over the top; she peeks around it cautiously, sees that Red is looking directly at her, and smiles guiltily.

“Heeey, Red. What’s up?”

Red isn’t sure if he’s just walked into an ambush or not, but he’s beginning to get the nagging feeling that both Leaf and Mom have been waiting anxiously for his arrival. He looks between the two of them, sees their matching expressions of barely-suppressed curiosity, and wishes in retrospect that he’d had the foresight to skip this entire mortifying evening.

“ _Gonna go upstairs now,”_ he signs cautiously, but it’s too late to back out now because Leaf has already slammed the fridge door closed, scaring Pikachu half out of his fuzzy yellow skin as she skids over to where Red is still hovering in the kitchen doorway.

“I’ll go with you!” she suggests breathlessly. Behind her Mom smiles encouragingly, giving Red a pleading look, and Red sighs, shoulders slumping a little in defeat.

_“I can get ready on my own,”_ he replies moodily, but Leaf already has his arm in a vice grip, pretty painted nails digging harmlessly into his bicep.

“Yeah, well, _we_ need to talk,” is all she says before Red finds himself being steered in the opposite direction, Leaf’s insistent tugging leading him all the way up the stairs and to the closed door of his bedroom. She waits for him to do the honors – funny that Leaf, of all people, would feel awkward about barging into someone’s personal sanctuary – and a moment later they’re both standing on the plush yellow carpet that Red picked out when he was 6, staring expectantly at one another.

Finally, when the tension mounts a little too high, Leaf throws her arms up into the air, just like she’s always done since she was a little girl, and blurts out, “Tell me everything, Red. _Please_.”

Red isn’t sure where to begin. He’s never been particularly good at expressing his feelings, even in childhood; his ability to interface on other people’s emotional wavelengths has just always been woefully inadequate at best. It certainly isn’t for lack of trying – his entire adult relationship with Blue has been a series of trials and many, _many_ errors, after all – but Red feels like the barrier has risen higher over the years and the thought of talking things out right now is a little overwhelming.

Still, Leaf is one of the few people Red _knows_ he can trust, and he’s never exactly been able to say “no” to her before.

“ _Can we sit down?”_ he signs at last, hoping that his nerves won’t betray him. He’s going to need his hands to stop shaking if he’s going to be able to do this.

“Yeah,” Leaf responds with a blink, compassion seeping into her expression. “Yeah, of course.”

She lets go of his arm at last, and Red shuffles uncertainly over to his bed, too small now to fully accommodate his adult height, but just the right amount of familiar with its rows of stuffed pokédolls and Nidorino-patterned sheets. He lowers himself right onto the edge, feeling the mattress dip significantly under his weight, and watches as Leaf drags over his wooden desk chair, seating herself down directly in front of him.

“Better?” she asks softly, large brown eyes meeting his, and Red can’t help but muster a smile for her, recognizing not for the first time just how beautiful Leaf has become over the years – how beautiful she’s always been, really.

_(It occurs to Red that life would be so, so much easier if he were in love with her, instead.)_

_“Better,”_ he signs after a moment of gathering his thoughts, figuring that the best place to start is always at the beginning. _“So… we went to Bill’s cottage together earlier today. I guess you know that much.”_

Leaf nods wordlessly, eyes glued to Red’s hands. She’s always had a harder time understanding him, far more than Blue ever has, and Red can’t help but feel a little flattered that she’s trying so hard to communicate on his terms right now (honestly, he’d have no problem just pulling out his Pokégear and texting her if she’d asked him to).

_“We talked to Bill. Well, Blue did, anyway. I just sat around with the Pokémon and tried not to interrupt. Moral support, I guess.”_

Leaf snorts a little but she’s smiling, too, probably envisioning Red surrounded by creatures large and small while Blue and Bill shared an emotional heart-to-heart about love and life. To be fair, she wouldn’t have been _too_ far off the mark assuming that (except for the part where Blue threatened to make sure that Bill would never hurt his sister again, but Red doesn’t think it necessary to bring _that_ up just yet).

_“Bill left to talk to Daisy after that,”_ he continues, adjusting the speed of his signing so that Leaf can follow along a bit more easily, _“And… then it was just us.”_

He pauses, both to make sure that Leaf has the gist of the story so far and to brace himself for what he knows comes next. When she nods for him to go on, Red finds that he can’t quite look at her. Instead, he reaches up to pull the brim of his hat down over his eyes, focusing on a spot on the wall just beyond Leaf’s shoulder.

_“There was something Blue said,”_ he tries to explain, head spinning a bit from the memory of it all. His brain feels fuzzy, faraway, like something is very, very wrong with him. _“I don’t know how, but… somehow I_ knew _that he wasn’t just talking to Bill. He was talking to me, too.”_

Leaf’s brow furrows a little in confusion, and Red wishes that he were better at this, _all_ of this, communicating and speaking and just _feeling_ , in general.

_“He told Bill that he understood. That he knew what it was like to bring out the worst in someone. That it was his own fault.”_

“Do you think he was talking about…?”

_“I think he was talking about us,”_ Red confirms, still not-quite looking at her. _“About the last time we met. How we had that stupid fight in Unova and…”_

He trails off, not wanting to go into any unnecessary detail, and Leaf seems to respect their privacy enough (at least in this instance) to not press him about it. She knows what happened, of course; Red had confided in her years ago, so that much can safely go unspoken.

_“So I asked him,”_ he says with a shrug, as though it was the most sensible thing for him to do. At the time, it really _had_ felt like the most logical course of action to take, even if he realizes now that it was probably a mistake to have been so straightforward with Blue. _“I asked him if he really felt like I’d be better off without him. If that was the reason he left and never reached out to me again.”_

“What did he say?” Leaf asks breathlessly, equal parts riveted and apprehensive.

_"He told me to drop it,”_ Red tells her, crestfallen. _“He said that he left because it shouldn’t have happened at all. That the two of us being together was a mistake.”_

He pauses, unable to stop the familiar tremble of his fingers as the air in his lungs thins a bit, reminding him starkly of what it felt like to breathe on Mt. Silver, before he’d had time to adjust to living thousands of feet above sea level. He wishes he were there right now, in that glistening cavern he’d eventually chiseled into a home, where the glow of Charizard’s tail lulled him to sleep without fail and nothing – _no one –_ could hurt him.

He doesn’t even realize that his breathing has grown shallow until Leaf’s hands meet his, warm and steady. Red blinks, refocusing, and when he meets her eyes at last Leaf looks so earnest and so _sad_ that Red wishes he could remember how to cry again.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, leaning forward so that she’s teetering practically on the edge of her chair. Red does the same, an automatic response to Leaf’s body language, and a moment later he feels her forehead bump gently against his, both of their heads bowed together in a silent, intimate gesture that has been theirs and theirs alone since childhood. This is Leaf’s way of saying _I love you_ and _you’re not alone._

Red doesn’t think he’s ever needed to hear those things more than he does right now.

_“I feel so stupid,”_ he says sometime later, when Leaf has given him just enough room to speak with his hands again (but no more than that, Red notes with some fondness; she really doesn’t want him to suffer through this alone, it seems). _“I_ know _he was baiting me and I_ know _he was only looking for a fight, but… I fell for it anyway. Just like I always do.”_

“It’s not your fault,” Leaf tells him seriously, gaze soft and compassionate. “We don’t get to choose who we love.”

There’s that word again, Red thinks, the one that’s been on his mind from the moment he’d first been introduced to Blue Oak decades ago, the one that rises unbidden into his thoughts whenever Blue’s eyes meet his, whenever they’re close enough to touch, whenever Blue laughs and sends Red’s heart racing, aching and ready to burst right in the center of his chest. Blue Oak is the only thing that Red has ever wanted, and it’s getting harder and harder to deal with the fact that Blue Oak is probably the only thing Red will never be able to have.

_“He kissed me back, you know,”_ he says suddenly, like he still can’t quite believe it himself. _“I thought… maybe he finally understood how I felt.”_

“Blue is…” Leaf trails off, chewing on her lower lip in frustration, and Red gets the feeling that she’s trying not to say what she’s _really_ thinking out of respect for him. “Blue is hopeless when it comes to this sort of thing. I think… I think he’s in denial. For some reason Blue doesn’t think anyone is capable of really loving him.”

Red blinks, brain struggling to process this new information. _No one_ has as much confidence as Blue, he thinks, knowing full well that it’s always been his best friend’s deep, unwavering faith in himself – the intrinsic knowledge that the world _needed_ him, the conviction that he had something no one else could ever hope to imitate – that had kept him going all these years. It was part of the reason Red hadn’t hesitated to make his way up the mountain right after becoming Champ – because he’d known then, the way he knows now, that no one deserved that title more than Blue did, and that it would be safer in his hands than it could have ever been in Red’s.

_“What do I do?”_ Red asks, completely at a loss. He doesn’t want to give up on Blue – on whatever it is the two of them share – but he also knows, deep down inside, that the longer this drags on, the more of a toll it will end up taking on the both of them. Red can handle pain – he’s known it far more intimately than most people ever will, after all – but Blue…

Red thinks of the look on Blue’s face on the day of the Pokémon World Tournament, the way his eyes had flashed furiously when he’d confronted Red in his hotel room later that evening, betrayal and a deep, primal _sadness_ coloring his every action. He thinks of the way Blue had kissed him sometime later, how he’d pushed frantically against Red while dragging him closer at the same time, how he’d only seemed at peace when it was all over and Blue had finally retreated into a deep sleep, Red curled up at his back.

He thinks of the way Blue always seems to struggle against everything, as though defiance were the only truth he’d ever known; Red is convinced that he could say _“I love you”_ from the highest point in all of Kanto, and Blue would _still_ find a way to question his sincerity.

“He just needs time,” Leaf tells him at last, and Red smiles sadly because time is all he’s given Blue for the past three years.

_“I don’t know if I can do this anymore,”_ he confides in her, and this time he doesn’t even care that his fingers shake when he says it; Red is slowly beginning to come to the conclusion that he’s really only been delaying the inevitable this entire time.

“What are you going to do next?” Leaf asks, concern evident in her tone.

Red looks at her for a moment, _really_ looks at her, at the furrow of her brow, the anxious set of her mouth, the hint of tears sitting right at the edges of her lashes. It hits him in that moment that Leaf has been invested in them for so much of their lives, running interference between he and Blue for so long that she probably hasn’t had the energy to concentrate on cultivating any lasting relationships of her own.

It isn’t fair to keep holding her back this way, he thinks, and suddenly his mind is made up.

_“I’m going to get dressed first,”_ Red says in a half-hearted attempt to lighten the mood. Leaf takes the bait, just like he knew she would, cracking a weak grin before punching him affectionately in the shoulder. _“Then I’m going to say my goodbyes.”_

“Wait, what?” Leaf asks suddenly, sitting up in alarm. She’s staring directly into Red’s eyes, all traces of humor lost, and even though Red should be used to this by now, the way he always inadvertently ends up hurting the people he loves most, the look of betrayal on her face still manages to send a coil of guilt swirling right into the pit of his stomach. “But… but the wedding’s tomorrow…”

_“Daisy will understand,”_ Red signs slowly, mustering up a smile even in the face of everything he’s feeling right now. It’s almost cathartic in a way, to have come to a definitive conclusion at last, pushing past the fear and the doubt and finally deciding, once and for all, how this particular story is going to end.

“Are you sure?”

_No_ , Red wants to say, because there will always be a part of him waiting patiently for Blue to come around, of that much he’s certain. What he _is_ sure of is that he’s done pushing his feelings onto someone who isn’t ready to decide if they even _want_ to reciprocate them. He deserves more than that, Red thinks sadly, and really, so does Blue.

“Is it…” Leaf’s voice trails off, and when she looks up at him again Red can see that the tears framing her lashes have finally fallen, leaving glistening streaks in their wake. “Is it for good?”

Red doesn’t know how to respond to that – he won’t be climbing up any new mountains any time soon, but the world is wider now than it’s ever been, and Red is happiest when he’s on the road, witnessing unseen sights and immersing himself in the exhilaration of exploring the unknown. It’s familiarity – lifelong attachments, continued expectations – that Red has always feared.

_“You know I love you, right?”_ he says instead, and Leaf is in his arms before he can even register what’s happening, holding him tight around the shoulders and pressing her face into the dark waves of his hair, nearly knocking the hat right off of his head. Red sighs, closes his eyes and breathes her in deeply, realizing in that moment that he’ll never have another friend quite like Leaf.

They stay like that for some time, wrapped up in each other the way they used to do when they were kids, until a soft knock from the doorway reminds Red that it simply isn’t possible for him to stay here forever. He gives Leaf one last, affectionate squeeze, then gently nudges her back up into a standing position. Leaf sniffles, running the back of her sleeve across her face before turning to flash Red’s mother a bright, reassuring smile.

“Hey, Mrs. A,” she says without missing a beat; if Mom notices that anything is amiss, she certainly doesn’t make any mention of it. “Time for me to get going. I can’t show up to the rehearsal dinner wearing _this_ old thing.”

“You were such a big help today,” Mom tells her as Leaf makes her way to the door, holding her arms out to her. Leaf meets her halfway in a brief but sincere hug, holding on perhaps a moment too long, and if the tears still drying on her face haven’t given her away by now, this certainly might.

“I’ll see you later,” Leaf sniffles, then stops in the doorway to send one last, regretful look over her shoulder in Red’s direction. “You too, Champ.”

Red watches her leave, heart in his throat, knowing that wherever Leaf goes, a part of him goes, too.

“Red, honey…”

Mom’s voice is soft and uncertain as it drifts over to him not a moment later. When Red looks up at her at last, he’s met with the sight of her sad, watery smile. How do mothers _always_ seem to just _know?_

_“I’m sorry,”_ Red signs to her, keenly aware of the fact that no one dreads his absences more than the woman who has been there for him his entire life. Red’s mother is truly something else – she’s seen more loss than anyone should ever have to, yet she still finds the strength to rise with the sun every single morning, a smile on her face and a song in her heart. Red sincerely doesn’t know how she does it.

“How long will you be away?” Mom asks quietly, busying herself with rummaging through Red’s closet. Red isn’t sure what she’s looking for, but he doesn’t bother to ask; if there’s one thing he’s learned throughout the years, it’s that there is _always_ a method to her madness.

_“I don’t know,”_ he says truthfully, when Mom finally looks up from her search to watch for his response. It feels unfair in a way, giving her so little notice and so little information to go on, but Red doesn’t think it would be fair to settle for false hope, either.

“I wish you’d consider staying for the wedding,” she tuts regretfully, setting aside a few old garment bags that Red hadn’t even remembered stowing away in the back of his closet. He recognizes the homemade mask attached to a bright green hanger – from the year he’d dressed up as Charmander for Halloween, of course - and stifles a laugh when Mom swishes around the Lance-inspired cape he’d worn to his elementary school graduation.

_"I’ll say my goodbyes at the party tonight,”_ he promises dutifully, figuring that it’s not _lying_ , per se, if he happens to avoid bumping into one particular person by the end of the night. Parties are crowded by nature, after all, and it’s easy enough to lose yourself in a crowd ( _especially, Red thinks, when you don’t exactly want to be found)_.

“I see,” is all Mom says. There’s silence for a moment or two, and when Red peers over at her curiously, he finds that she’s apparently located whatever it is she’d been looking for. It doesn’t hit him right away, at least not until Mom crosses over to where he’s still sitting at the very edge of his bed, holding a small, folded bundle against her chest.

_“Is that…?”_

Red doesn’t mean for it, but his breath catches involuntarily in his throat anyway. Mom blessedly pretends not to notice and instead sets about the task of carefully unfolding what Red now recognizes to be the suit he’d worn into the forest all those years ago, when he and Leaf and Blue had still been kids. There’s a scuff in the knee of his pants and the material certainly hasn’t held up as well as it could’ve, but Red thinks it miraculous that his mother has managed to keep it in such decent condition all of these years.

Most importantly…

“Do you remember losing this in the forest that day?” Mom asks, running her fingers gingerly across the small, dried bud still securely pinned to the lapel of the tiny suit jacket. The color has all but faded from its petals, with only a whisper of lavender still clinging to the preserved flower, but Red can see exactly what it used to look like in his mind’s eye – vibrant, beautiful, full of life.

_“How did you find this?”_ he wonders, awe-struck. It hadn’t even occurred to him until much later that the boutonniere had dislodged itself when he’d fallen to the ground – _when Blue had_ pushed _him to the ground –_ that day.

“I stopped by the pecha berry tree that same year and saw it lying on the ground,” Mom recalls, expression thoughtful. “I’m honestly surprised it wasn’t trampled by wild Pokémon before then.”

Red laughs at this, shoulders shaking silently in amusement, and Mom’s eyes soften in response, something sad and faraway entering her expression for the briefest moment. “You were so happy that day,” she says at last, gently, as though she’s not quite sure how Red will react.

_“I was,”_ he tells her earnestly. There’s certainly no point in trying to hide what his mother has probably already known all these years.

“Do you still love him, Red?”

In all honesty, Red isn’t sure how to respond. Of course he loves him; as far as Red is concerned, his earliest memories are made up of nothing but his feelings for Blue, childlike awe and admiration morphing slowly into something different, something stronger, until even just the sight of Blue had the power to reduce Red to nothing but the sum of his wildly beating heart and the aching need to be close to him.

_“I always have,”_ he says at last, fingers trembling.

“Does he love you?”

Red wishes, more than anything, that he could answer his mother’s question with an unmistakable, unequivocal “ _yes”_ , that he could say, with absolute certainty, that Blue felt for him all of the things that Red literally couldn’t stop himself from feeling, no matter how hard he’d tried to over the years. Nothing would mean more to him than knowing that, against all odds, Blue loved him, too.

_“I don’t know,”_ is all he can manage to say, and Mom is wise enough to know not to press any further. She contemplates this information for a moment, her eyes never leaving Red’s face, and it’s only when she’s come to her own, silent conclusion that she finally smiles at him again, lifting a hand to brush her fingers gently across Red’s cheek.

“I’m proud of you,” she tells him at last, voice quavering just the slightest bit. “So, so proud of you, Red. You’ve always been such a brave boy. I just know you’ll find your happiness someday.”

Red lowers his eyes, feeling anything _but_ brave; here he is, on the verge of abandoning her yet again, and his mother still can’t find it in her heart to be anything but loving and supportive. How did he ever get so lucky?

“I won’t keep you,” Mom says with a smile, as though she can sense Red’s inner turmoil. “You’ve got a busy night ahead of you.”

She stoops briefly to plant a feather-light kiss onto his forehead; Red reaches for her right away, finding one of her hands and squeezing gently, hoping that this simple touch can convey the gratitude that he feels for all that she’s done for him, even when he hasn’t always felt deserving of her kindness.

_“Thanks, Mom,”_ he signs, directly into her palm, and this time not even she can turn away fast enough to hide the tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End notes, in no particular order:
> 
> **a.** Red is a tough POV to nail, possibly because I interpret him as being the opposite of Blue: 100% aware of his feelings, heart on his sleeve, with frustratingly little capacity to express it all properly. I hope I did him justice!  
>  **b.** Leaf's role is not done here, folks - she's a good enough friend to respect Red's wishes, but that doesn't mean she's not about to raise hell for Blue. No one hurts her bro and gets away with it.  
>  **c.** Red's childhood voice is a lot simpler than his adult dialogue. I figured that he was still new to sign language back then, and that he'd settle for shorter, more straightforward phrases instead. He also texts exactly like I do: full sentences, decent grammar, slow to respond. It drives Leaf nuts.  
>  **d.** The gift Red has been hanging on to all this time is, indeed, a mega stone (specifically Gyaradosite). I just couldn't get over the red/blue symbolism there. (Small easter egg: if you skip back to the previous chapter, you'll find that Red was fidgeting with it in his pocket while tossing rocks at Blue's window).  
>  **e.** I promise I've been reading every one of your comments thus far - I just didn't think it fair to respond when I knew I wouldn't be able to post anything new just yet. Apologies for the silence!
> 
> I think that's it for now. Please stay tuned for the next chapter - I may not be able to update as quickly as I'd like, but this story **will** see its conclusion sometime soon. Thanks for being patient with me! <3


End file.
